The whole hotel is my beat so I’ve got to drift.
I’ve got to find the swirled butter on the plate.
Regard this spiraled stack of paper napkins. This miniscule, considered bit of hospitality intrigues me.
I like to chase the shadows of bicyclists with my camera from…
We ate our last lunch together at the Pfister,
my Grandma and I
I wrote a story about it the other week,
except then I did not know it would be our last meal
when I sat next to Grandma
and we both ordered the salmon salad
Roving the lounge
I roll up to a family
with one of those dual seat strollers
and make my introduction,
“Are those two ‘youngins’ twins?”
“They are almost Irish twins,” says the mama.
I’ve never heard
of that one
what does that mean?
In the lounge by the fire I meet a clump of kids and their parents. There are six empty mugs of hot cocoas and the dad tells me they all came here to enjoy the holiday décor. The nearest décor (that I suddenly notice with fresh décor…
Two of my second cousins are in town
so my Grandma and Mom take us all out
to a Monday noon lunch at the Pfister café.
My cousin Courtney, lifelong Texas resident
introduces us to her new husband, Michael
who, to our collective delight is as Wisconsin as
Katherine has been coming here for years
she was married for three decades
to a man who came to the Pfister to just to jog.
He died ten years ago
so, recently she asked the divine,
“could you please send me a boyfriend who does yoga?”
After she asked…
On a Friday night in December, there is man in a Santa hat having a drink with a bunch of his friends in the lounge. To make conversation I ask him why he’s got that hat on (though the reason is obvious) and one of his many friends says…
Jennifer is here. She just quit her job as the director of a troupe of tribal belly dancers. I learn that tribal belly dancing is more athletic than traditional. Apparently traditional belly dancing much more wiggly. I believe it, having taken belly dancing in college and finding it fairly impossible…
A guest in the lobby told the following story that took place over thirty years ago. He told me four other stories similar to this in the period of an hour.
I get a phone call from Short Man, he wants to see me. We were best friends in…
Debbie was working as a pastry chef when a customer came in wanting a cake like the one they saw in Martha Stewart Magazine. The customer said they’d been to every bakery in town, but no one would do it. Debbie was shocked to hear that, but the bakery…
There is a couple from Madison that comes here every year. They spend the week after thanksgiving sitting quietly side by side in the Pfister café, the wife with an unidentified electronic contraption, the husband with a book of games to solve. It is a docile, wintry afternoon, one in…
The day after Thanksgiving, Santa makes an appearance at the Pfister Hotel the same evening as the annual Tree Lighting Ceremony. That’s great, kids love the opportunity to tell the man direct what it is they wish for. But what about everyone else? Once you grow up you still…
The following people shared their Thanksgiving Plans:
Location: Artist studio
Context: One Pfister Artist Niki’s interns, Arianna spent her day crocheting condoms into upholstery for Niki’s fainting couch.
“I’m going to my fake aunt’s house. I actually met her on the bus…
The following monologue was created from a conversation I had with two women as they waited for Val to serve them some hot glog. Note: multiple voices and perspectives speak as one.
We’re not down here too often
we work in Brookfield and have clients here
Right now in the Mystery that is the Pfistery,
there is a basket out in the lobby
a tisket, a tasket of apples,
all sized small
to keep inside my blazer pocket
my pocket’s apple is named King David
cause I’m told these are King David…
I am sitting in Blu by myself so that no one will distract me as I eavesdrop in on the conversations. Some old ladies are giggling about martinis. An old man is taking all the plush chairs away from my table to build a nest for all his companions. One…
One day I’m typing in the lobby when a man approaches me. He has a kind face, one that appears illuminated from within by what I’d guess to be a gentle, prolonged love relationship. He just looks easeful and friendly. He inquires as to what I’m doing…
Mauriah has asymmetrical green bangs,
but you can’t see them too well
in the shady nighttime of Blu.
She orders a moscow mule and tells me
that she felt really safe when she lived in Taiwan.
Sure, scooters and bicycles got stolen
but even then the thieves were only…
Ilda became an American Citizen today in the courthouse across the street from the Pfister. She had to pledge her allegiance to the flag, swear an oath and then was given an envelope that contained her official paperwork along with a letter signed by the President. It is 6:30…
“My biggest bugaboo is blue jeans, sweatshirts, flat shoes.
I can’t stand it.
Every time I get on an airplane,
I’m over in Italy,
I’m over in Paris,
I’m over London,
I can tell without even asking which gate I’m supposed to go to
Five moments of learning from the past week at the Pfister.
A kid from Chicago comes to my typewriter and gawks. I allow him to type whatever he wants:
“HAa Liamisthe greatest Pat and Kerianne suck and wish they could do this hahah”
A girl comes…
Here is the conversion story of Monica who joins her friends Jan and Tom at the Pfister every Sunday after they all attend mass at St. Catherine’s.
“I hated it.
I was opposed to it on moral grounds.
a waste of time.
Then the Packers…
Until today, I hadn’t seen my friend Kiera in nine years. The last time I saw her we were having one last group sleepover at my house the week before we each moved out of Milwaukee to seek our higher educations in other cities. I went to Missouri for…
I’m drinking tropical hibiscus in the lounge
when a woman enters the vicinity clopping
her tongue like a horse
along to the ambient music.
I record this occurrence in my notebook,
take a swig of tea,
to meet the clip clop woman
so as to tell her…
I weighed one pound fourteen ounces,
carried four and a half months.
I was the record until 1971.
I was the size of a big tomato,
except I was long
you could put me in a shoebox.
They put five months on my birth certificate
but it was really four…