Having passed the clubhouse turn and started the second half of my life, I get to bore my kids with endless recitations of “Back in my day …”
Perhaps my stories have meaning to others. Or perhaps I’m just talking to myself, which is the principal audience for about 95% of my comments.
Anyway, when I was 17 years old, I got a job delivering pizzas for Havabite Eatery on Main Street in Fairfax. I drove the company car, a red Chevy with “Havabite” stenciled on the side, and made deliveries all the way down to Lorton.
The restaurant was owned by a middle-aged Greek couple, who had three beautiful daughters. Although I could make $40 a night in tips (which was serious cash back in 1986), I would have worked for free — just to be near those girls.
It was an idyllic life, but it couldn’t last forever. One night in June I graduated from high school. The owner was there and pressed a card in my hand as I walked off the stage. There was $100 inside. That was also big money back then.
I stopped into Havabite when I was back from school, but then time passed. I gradually lost touch with the owners and their daughters (alas, they all got married). The restaurant was sold to new owners. For a while, it didn’t seem like it could stay open — especially as everyone got into the pizza delivery business.
But it did stay open and people kept coming to enjoy the Greek and Italian specialties. In fact, it’s remained a staple of the local “courthouse” crowd, who come for the souvlaki and gyro sandwiches.
Tonight, I was in there with my mom and four kids. After our dinner, I talked to the current owner (also Greek, and named “Ida” like my daughter). I told her about my connections with Havabite, back in the 80′s.
She asked if I could write an on-line review.
OK, sure. I’ll do something like that.