Opinion: I Wish the Guy Playing Piano Wouldn't Talk About Us Like That

Also, his microphone reeks of beer and the piano sounds terrible

If you’re like me, you like to enjoy your Saturday night by going out to your favorite local haunt and seeing all the regulars. You order your usual drink — a gin and tonic — and sip it in a normal, unsexy way. The last thing you want is some musical comedian calling you out in front of everyone. Unfortunately, that’s what wannabe lounge singer Billy Joel has been doing to me for the past four months.

I’m not the only target, of course. Poor John, the bartender, probably gets it the worst. This guy got his SAG card years ago when he was a background actor in a Scorsese movie and talks about how he’d love to do it again, but little Billy has to make fun of him for having a dream. John is the nicest guy in the world and everybody’s best friend. He could probably support himself on commercial work alone, which he gets regularly, but he loves seeing everyone at the bar. Those free drinks he slides to the piano player come out of his paycheck, and he gets nothing but abuse in return.

That’s to say nothing of Joel’s naked disdain for Vice Admiral David Chesterfield, or “Davy” as the singer dismissively calls him. Yeah, he probably will be in the Navy for life. It’s his career. The man served in World War II. He crossed the Pacific a dozen times and the Atlantic twice that many. Let him drink in peace.

I’m not sure if it’s fair for me to directly call Joel a misogynist, but I really don’t like his tone when he talks about the dive’s only waitress. She recently declared her candidacy for city council, as she has developed both a passion for and deep knowledge about urban zoning. We were all happy to give our signatures so she could get on the ballot, but Mr. Piano treated it like it was a joke. Like he thought her interests were funny. Do you think you’d be a better elected representative, keyboard boy?

As far as I can tell, no one asked him to do any of this. He shows up at 9 p.m. and plays for tips. The manager is too scared to confront him about it. Like me, he probably assumed that the old piano was just for show. Now, he just smiles nervously whenever the piano man makes eye contact with him, which I guess is as good as permission.

It’s not like the rest of us don’t make our opinions clear, though. We tried bribing him to leave by stuffing a bunch of cash into his tip jar. When that didn’t work, we outright asked him what he was doing here. He just kept playing and talking shit about us.

You might think I’m some sort of maniac for coming back to this bar time after time, knowing that Joel is going to be there. You may be right. I may be crazy. But I’m not moving out.