The Men’s Acquascutum of London Trenchcoat
It was three weeks before Christmas, 1984. I was living in a one-room apartment in the Commander Hotel, a transient hotel on West 73rd St just off Broadway. I say living when I really should say existing. My possessions? A two-burner hot plate, a six-cubic foot refrigerator and a convertible sofa, donated by mom.
I had recently separated from my wife and moved to Manhattan. I knew the city well, working there many years. I was miserable, flitting from one woman to the next, then afterwards, left with my solitude and an empty room. Some nights I opted to walk Columbus Avenue, people watching.
It was one of those lonesome stretches that gave me the incentive to go shopping; after all, it was the holidays. Back then Barneys was in business, and I really enjoyed browsing their store on Seventh Avenue at 17th Street, my credit card at the ready. That's where I bought the Men’s Aquascutum of London double-breasted tan trench coat . The outside was tan, obviously, the inside lined with a soft, cozy plaid fabric. It really looked good on me too. They didn’t call it a "classic style" for nothing. It sported wide lapels, belted sleeves and a handsome belt (reversible, like the coat), with brass eyelets for the belt buckle prongs. It looked sharp! And I found it looked even sharper if I just tied the belt at the front rather than buckling it. I mean I looked like Columbo without the Mercedes. I paid $350.00 for it on sale–a Christmas present to myself.
One evening months later I was leaving a favorite Italian restaurant on Third Avenue after a lively dinner filled with laughter, friendship and of course, wine, probably a little too much wine. These get-togethers were a lot of fun, seeing my friends, couples all happy and gay, but afterward I was left with that empty feeling.
It was raining so I had worn the men’s Aquascutum of London tan Trench Coat. Because I was in a very relaxed state — maybe a little too relaxed, feeling no pain but still able to conduct myself respectably. I didn’t bother to fasten my belt. It was probably dragging beside me on the ground.
Shaking hands and exchanging kisses, I walked out onto the street just a few feet from the curb, looking for a taxi. Maybe it was me but the cars were flying by, some really close. That alone should have concerned me … I must have walked too far out into the avenue. The streets were slick from the rain, the dark night making visibility poor. It took a few minutes but I finally flagged one down with his light on. I jumped in quickly and slammed the door shut. I couldn’t help but think this was a perfect night for the Aquascutum, rainy and chilly; congratulating myself for buying it. I was greeted by the damp, musty air inside the cab, smelling like a basement after a rainstorm. The seat covering had cracks in the vinyl; I imagined how many must have ridden in this same seat––thousands at least.
Third Avenue runs north straight Uptown from 23rd Street so a taxi ride to 73rd Street and Broadway was an easy trip. But traffic was heavy, stop and go, so it was not to be. I leaned back in my seat, pulling the Aquascutum around me. I glanced out the window next to me, watching the blurring store lights drift by.
“73rd and Broadway, please.”
“No problem. Lousy night, damn rain can't see a thing.”
“I know what you mean, but just take it a little easy, it’s pretty crappy out there.”
Boy was I happy about my Aquascutum; keeping me warm and dry. The traffic was pretty bad — stop and go — but I was in no hurry, still feeling the effects of the wine. Glancing out the window I watched the blurred store lights go by ever so slowly.
We were passing a construction zone on the left and the cab drivers around us were maneuvering to get behind each other, leaving little room between lanes. I looked up to see the traffic light we were approaching turn red, which brought traffic to a halt. The taxi on our left pulled up about a half a car length further, leaving me staring at his rear fender, literally just inches away. I don’t remember ever being that close to a car while driving. I could clearly see the raindrops chasing each other down his window.
The light turned green and the driver bolted forward bringing us several yards ahead of the taxi on our left and forcing me back against my seat.
“What the hell, man? I yelled. "You’re driving like a lunatic. Take it easy!”
“Sorry mister, I just wanted to get away from that guy on my left, close enough to suck the paint off my car.”
Everything that followed seemed to happen at the speed of light. Just as the driver took off I felt a weird sensation around my waist that at first was warming and a second later quite hot. At that same moment I heard a flap-flap-flap-click. I looked around for the source of this machine-gun-like series of strange sounds.
“Did you hear that?” I couldn’t place where the sound came from, inside the cab or outside on the avenue.
“Hear what? No, I didn’t hear anything.”
"Wow," I thought, "I’m having trouble focusing. I must have drunk more wine than I realized."
The driver pulled up onto 73rd Street a few feet from the front entrance of the Commander Hotel. I paid the tab, opened the cab door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, feeling the drizzle of cool rain on my forehead.
It had become colder and my Aquascutum was open, hanging loosely around my shoulders so I buttoned up and reached around for the belt. I twisted my body so I could see behind me, thinking it might have been caught in one of the belt loops. Except: no belt! "Holy shit, I thought, "where the fuck is my belt? Did I leave it at the restaurant?’ Or in the taxi?”
As I walked to the hotel, the rain forcing me to focus, I put two and two together. The weird warming feeling, the flap-flap-flap-click, was my Aquascutum belt departing my waist and the taxi door bottom. The right rear tire of the taxi next to us at the light must have stopped on the end of the belt, which was hanging free, holding it fast against the pavement. When we took off the belt stayed put, ripping itself off me and out the taxi door!
I guessed it was lying somewhere in the middle of Sixth Avenue and 23rd Street.