So I made some big decisions for my next project. First, I decided that in order to keep my work in people's minds rather than vanish for two years at a time, I'd serialize the next novel. Every month, and always at the end of the month because I'm a serial procrastinator already holding down two jobs that total 90+ hours a week, I'd put a new chapter of the book online for people to read. Would anyone read? Would anyone buy a copy when it releases? Only one way to find out.
Second, to encourage people to read, I figured I'd force decisions on my characters throughout the novel and let readers vote on what they should do next. It makes it tremendously difficult for me to shape a novel as it goes, but like Frank Strang I'm nothing if not a relentlessly self-improving workaholic. Third, in order to stay in the public eye during the process of drumming out a 100,000-word screenplay rather than emerge at the end like Howard Hughes wearing tissue boxes on my feet and 18-inch fingernails, I'd hold a monthly meet-up where anyone who wanted would show up to eat, drink and discuss how the book is going and whatever else came into our heads.
The obvious choice of venue was The Ashburn Pub in Ashburn, Virginia. Local entrepreneur Kevin Bednarz and his wife Jenn have always been good to me, my wife, our kids and the northern Virginia geek community, as has the staff and management of nearby comic shop Comic Logic, in which Kevin also has a stake. So late last June I launched the first chapter of my zombie novel Dead Passage with a standing invitation on the first Tuesday of every month at 6:30 p.m. for anyone who wants to come to The Pub to spend time with me and the gracious souls who take the time to read it. In the nine months since, we've laughed, we've cried, we've given away t-shirts and CDs and food and shots and build a strong little group of friends and fans.
Then the novel coronavirus, which originated in Wuhan, China, made its way to the United States and essentially ground daily life to a halt. Schools got canceled, non-essential businesses shuttered, bars and restaurants went from fully open to limited capacity to carryout and delivery only, consumers hoarded paper and hygiene products for personal use or resale, hate crimes against Asian-Americans skyrocketed, John Prine died - to quote John Terry's Lieutenant Lockhart in Full Metal Jacket, "It's a big shit sandwich and we're all gonna have to take a bite."
Unsurprisingly, like many small businesses and independently-owned restaurants, The Ashburn Pub (and its sister location in Purcellville, the aptly-named Purcellville Pub) reacted accordingly. Doing its best to roll with the punches and keep its staff employed and paid, The Pubs have taken to offering carryout options - recently they even adapted and added larger/family meals to their carryout menu on Saturday nights.
Tuesday, April 7, we would've had our 10th Dead Passage meetup at The Pub. Instead, I decided to host a virtual Facebook watch party of the 1968 George Romero classic Night of the Living Dead and tell everyone to call ahead for Pub takeout beforehand, making it the closest we could come to a traditional hangout. I called in for a pound of wings and a club sandwich for myself, a salmon and mixed greens salad for my wife, and an order of fish and chips and an order of popcorn chicken for my daughter and son, respectively.
Over the years I've gotten to know the Pub staff pretty well - one of their bartenders even served as a dialogue coach for my last book - so I couldn't help but feel a bit of trepidation on the drive over. All businesses are hurting right now; who would be holding down the fort? What would the mood be like? How heavy would COVID-19 hang in the air? Would the tension of disease and the unending litany of bad news have an effect on The Pub that was visible or palpable? How deflated would my favorite watering hole look?
On my walk into The Pub from the parking lot, an elderly Scotsman emerged from the H&R Block next door - he looked like a thinner version of Jerry's dad on Seinfeld - and exclaimed "Gah! Why did God send us women?" The only answer I could conjure on the spot was "To make life both rewarding and perplexing in terrific and equal amounts." Satisfied, he continued on to his car for whatever paperwork or item his tax adjuster had requested of him and I went inside the propped open door to The Pub to get my order, and here's what I didn't see.
I didn't see any of the gloom or uncertainty that seemed to hover in the clouds over the world the last month or so. Missing was the anxiety and fear of other people that showed itself in the eyes of every patron at the grocery store. Unlike the brave folks facing the public from behind supermarket conveyor belt registers and counters lined with cash machines at megastores, the brave folks facing the public from behind the bar and the grill at The Pub didn't look overworked, yelled at, uncared for or taken for granted. Chalk it up to management, ownership, kinder customers, whatever you like - Robin, Shelbie and Smoochie were in good enough spirits (no pun intended) so as to be contagious (seriously, no pun intended).
Sure, on the other hand, another thing I didn't see were a lot of customers there. Like me, there were one or two folks at the opposite end of the bar waiting for their food. But of course you have to take the law and public health and safety into account for that. I don't think a single business in the state is running like usual right now - all have either been shuttered completely or mandated to run in a limited capacity. But that brings me to the most important part.
I didn't see anything diminished, suffering, or lesser in The Pub since the onset of coronavirus. The staff, their rapport with the customers, my food, the service - everything was intact. Robin rang me up and was in just as good a mood as always, Smoochie was laughing with a patron and Shelbie was busy as usual. What I didn't see at The Pub was any indication that the culture that's been building there since 1995 was coming to an end or any permanent form of change. Everyone's favorite bar or restaurant is an oasis from work, stress, whatever affronts them throughout their day and I can say that at least one place in Ashburn is going to persevere through this life-changing pandemic.
It's not just comfort food. It's a full range of creature comforts that shouldn't - can't - be overlooked.
