Gloria

Gloria loves a good martini. She also loves good scotch, And then, of course, there is the whiskey. I'd met Gloria shortly after I'd moved into my condo nearly two years ago. I liked her immediately, before we'd even spoken. She seemed classy. Living in the same place for more than forty-five years does that to a person.

Gloria was sitting in the fifth row in front of me at one of the few HOA meetings I attended when I first moved into the building. To make me feel welcome, and because she was curious who I was, she moved back to sit near me. I intrigued her. She intrigued me. We knew we had to get to know one another. Looking at Gloria, she reminded me of on my my great aunts or grandmothers, perhaps a film star from the 1950s I'd seen on television or a vintage "Look" magazine. Maybe it was the Chanel purse. Or her dyed honey-blond hair that she tossed back when it fell on her face. She was the coolest senior citizen I'd ever met.

At a party a few weeks later, given by my next-door neighbor, Gloria was one of the first guests to arrive. She smelled wonderful. It might have been Chanel, or maybe something by Guerlain. Who knew? I had arrived first to the party, to bring the hostess a jar of olives, some ice cubes, and a vacuum cleaner. Gloria and I said hello to each other again, then got a couple of martinis and settled down on the comfortable Italian leather sofa near the hissing radiator in the corner. After some casual back-and-forth conversation, I asked Gloria how long she had lived in the building. In a slightly boozed-soaked voice, she told me more than forty-five years. Originally, Gloria had moved into the building with her mother after her father had died. The unit, in 1960, was a rental, which Gloria eventually purchased when the building went condo a short time later. For better or worse, she has stayed in the building while the neighborhood, the Tenderloin, slowly, every so slowly, changed. "It's more diverse than it used to be," she said. "It was rough back then, too, but has gotten a lot better." Gloria added she missed the days when everyone would get dressed up to go out for cocktails and parties. There was no Internet. There were no computers or cell phones. You invited someone to go out. Manners were important. Gloria had old-school charm galore.

A one-bedroom condo cost $25,000 in 1960, which was a lot of money back then. Of course, Gloria made good money. She worked in the publicity department of one of the film studios. I can't remember which one, since the gin had started to go to my head. There was I believe a mention of traveling around California to various movie theaters, and meeting movie stars. Darn this gin. I'll have to ask Gloria for more details the next time I chat with her. Of course, I'll be sure to serve dry martinis. I just hope Gloria will bring more great stories and the good gin.