The woman with the broom, Hugh, and the conductor all gazed at him with blank faces.
“You can play all right,” Hugh said. “What’s your name?”
“Quindlen, sir. Eugene.”
“Well, Eugene, I’m Hugh McNally.”
“And I’m Rose,” the broom lady said with a bright smile.
“And I’m Happy,” the conductor added, holding up his whiskey glass.
They all laughed. Rose went behind the bar and poured the remaining contents of a bottle into two glasses. She brought them over and set one on the piano.
“Oh, Hugh, darling. Can we keep him? Look at his blue eyes. He’s adorable.”
“I’m sure all of the operators of the Philadelphia Rapid Transit Company will agree with you my dear,” Hugh scoffed. “Now, Eugene, play something upbeat.
The fellas that come here are as down as the economy, including yourself. Try to lift their spirits, lad. Give the boys something to smile about. What they need is music and my whiskey to forget about their troubles.”
Eugene had downed his drink and, because he went without much food over the past week, it went straight to his head. He was feeling euphoric.
He played the “Laughing Song” and sang the lyrics. Actually there weren’t any lyrics, per se. It was just a jumble of “hah, hah, hah” and “he, he, he.” But it was fun, uplifting, and contagious.
Rose broke out another bottle. Eugene continued playing and drinking whiskey. He played ragtime and jazz and Irish folk songs.
Hugh gave him the job. If Eugene could fill the stools and tables at McNally’s he would always have a full tip jar. It was wonderful. It was glorious. It was a job!
With patting of backs and guffaws of laughter, Rose and Hugh escorted Happy and Eugene out the door and into the cold night.
Walking down Germantown Avenue, it took nearly fifteen minutes for Eugene to realize it: he had a job but he still didn’t have any money.
REGINA | 94