This work began three and a half years ago after a 'Life Transformation' with the passion of the Muse to guide.  That passion had a profound effect on not only my writing, but on my life as well.  Circumstances.  Ah, yes ... circumstances directed me on a phenomenal journey away from this story ... uh, no, actually into it.   

I found my self exiting my 20 year relationship with a Good Man, one who I virtually grew into an adult with.  I landed in a friend's empty loft on the 16th Street Mall on the same street just two blocks down from The Diner where this story is set.  My window, a large double-hung with a wide ledge just made for hanging (literally) out 4 floors from the street) faced onto Stout Street.  The light-rail referenced in Chapter 3 ran beneath my feet and ... not to give anything away ... The Window provided an unobstructed view of the Characters I'd begun writing about four months earlier.  I was rocked when I realized that I'd virtually stepped into my story. 

I spent the fall and winter of 2004-2005 in that loft frolicking with love -- love of a passionate nature and love of the city I'd chosen as home 25 years prior when I was 20.  I eventually settled down enough and found a slightly 'just off downtown' loft that I spent the next two years until my return to my Home in which I'd lived the 10 years prior to my Journey.  

I tell you all this ... especially to those of you who have sent literally hundreds and hundreds of emails expressing your excitement with and desire for more of Reservations ... because the 2 1/2 years that I was 'Playing With New Things', I never forgot You.  I just couldn't finish this story.  And I didn't know why.  Then I returned Home to a house where literally every space had changed but still remained Home.  This time, though, I was Alone.  And happy to have, as I fondly refer to my Journey, survived the Rocket Ride.   

I hope you enjoy this rewrite of Reservations and its (I know, finally) satisfying end.  I’ve added a lot to the story and think it is worth a re-read.  The first submission to Nifty was very raw.  The story has definitely aged well.  Grin. 


 This story is dedicated with all love possible to that Good Man ... Tink.  Without him, none of this would have been possible.  I cherish the knowledge that through our travels together over the years and our physical distance now, we are the Closest Of Intimate Friends possible.

 Special Thanks goes to two friends that I've never met in person, but who have painstakingly provided the torturous task of editing my scribbles.  Tim Mead was my first draft editor.  All I can say is "I'm so sorry I did that to you, Tim" ... and to the man who provided the polish to this 2nd version AND incited me to write a sequel to the original short story of the same name -- Rock Hunter.  He just had to ask ... "But what did Hank say???"

If so inclined, send comments to :    I also have a google group where my other works as well as advance postings of Reservations can be found before posting to Nifty.



Reservations – A Novel


By Drew Filchak



Prologue:  “Before”


            A deep sigh echoed against the sound of the closing door.  He lay on his back; muscular, firm arms fanned outward as his hands laced together behind his head -- his body sated though his mind jumped between visions of the just completed sex and the seldom occurring desire to not be alone.  It'll pass, he told himself.  It always does.  He knew his bed partner for the evening had wanted to stay and if he was truthful with himself, tonight he might not have minded so much; the idea of being held had a definite allure, especially after days like today.  Days of victory.

          The deal closed the way he had expected and he was just under two hundred thousand dollars richer than he'd been when the day started.  Not bad, all in all.  It felt good knowing he'd pulled everything together after months spent agonizing over details.  The sensation was … satisfying … and mirrored how his body now felt; content, sated, spent.

          Moments later, however, his eyes closed, scowling in the darkness though the bedside light still illuminated the room.  The question of why he'd chosen to remain alone throughout the night returned.  The answer was familiar and seemed to be age old; a litany of past occurrence – because the potential return wasn't enough to offset the risk. 

          Never enough.  It was better to maintain the status quo.  Remember.  Keep the balance.  The distraction of more than one night held too many repercussions which would lead to the same conclusive and solitary end it always did.  Better to keep the game alive, better to keep the pursuit in front of him because to the victor comes the spoils.

          Yeah, man. 

          He laughed to himself as the night's activities played before his mind.  And what a hot bit of spoils this guy had been tonight!