Thirty-five minutes later, a little bell tinkles, as the front door to the coffee shop opens.


Hearing this sound, Eileen turned to see Margaret, her friend, co-worker, and roommate, enter the restaurant.

It is evident from Margaret's appearance that she got dressed in a hurry and had to cut corners:

The feathers atop her head are damp from the shower. She forgot her makeup. Her uniform looks a bit disheveled. And, most notably, she forgot about the top two buttons, granting the astute observer an occasional glimpse of her cleavage as she moved around.

"Hey Eileen!" said Margaret, greeting her friend in a loud voice to get her attention.

"Oh, Hiya, Margaret!"

"Sorry, I'm late."

"Relax, you're only 5 minutes behind schedule."

"I know, I know. It's just this traffic, Urghhh! Anyways, so where's the boys?"

"Over there!" declared Eileen as she pointed to the table where Mordecai and Rigby were sitting. "Cool," said Margaret as she quickly walked in that direction.

"Hi guys!" said Margaret from about 12 feet away.

Upon hearing her voice, Mordecai left his seat and ran towards her.

"Hey Margaret, you made it!" he cried out.

"So glad to see you again!" said the bluejay as he put his arms around her waist. "I'm glad to see you as well," replied the robin in return, as she placed her hands around his waist.

"Excuse my appearance; I had to run to get down here..."

"Whatever, You still look beautiful."

"You think?"

"Of course I do."

"Oh Mordecai, you're so sweet!" she replied, kissing him on the lips.

They held each other in a silent embrace for almost 5 minutes. To Rigby, however, this felt like an eternity as he watched with rolling eyes the public display of avian affection before him.

"So, Um, I Haven't seen you around the coffeehouse in a while," said Margaret, after briefly glancing at her watch.

"Well, you know, work and stuff."

"Benson's been having you work overtime?"

"You could say that."

"Eileen tells me you're setting up for some kind of party."

"You mean 'The Gala'?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Yeah"

"She tells me you need help with something..."

"Uhh... Uhh... Oh, Yeah!" said Mordecai upon realizing he was distracted. His attraction towards Margaret caused him to forget the original purpose of the meeting momentarily.

"Let me show you."


Mordecai grabbed her hand and led her to the table. Upon arriving, he let go of her hand, sat down at the booth, and slid towards the wall. Once situated, he tapped the cushion with his hand a few times, motioning for her to sit down beside him.

He waited for her to sit down. Then, he grabbed the laptop, placed it on the table between them, and opened the lid.

"Oh, don't mind me," said Rigby sarcastically, as he got up and moved to a different booth nearby.

"I figured you two lovebirds need some time alone together. I wouldn't want to interfere..."

"Rigby, you're not interfering. Besides, we need your help in picking out the band."

"Well, that's interesting..." said Rigby, dripping with sarcasm.

"Less than an hour ago, I offered my opinion regarding a potential band, and YOU REFUSED TO LISTEN!" said Rigby raising his voice to a yell.

"DAMNIT, RIGBY, ARE YOU STILL MAD ABOUT IRON DRAGON!? FOR CHRISSAKES, DUDE!? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT!?" cried Mordecai. Margaret sat in silence, uncomfortably watching the other patrons turn around to see the commotion.

Rigby just huffed and walked away.

Calming down, Mordecai apologized to Margaret for losing his temper.

"Sorry, Margaret."

"It's fine."

While embarrassing, she and Eileen have had their share of arguments, and thus she deferred any judgment. Ultimately, she felt relieved to see that a full-blown fight did not break out.

"Rigby can be stubborn sometimes. He tends to act up when he can't get his way." Mordecai mumbled to Margaret, forgetting that raccoons have an excellent sense of hearing.

"SHUT UP, MORDECAI; I HEARD THAT!"

Rigby sat down again at the opposite end of the restaurant, where Eileen was working. He figured he would talk to her and let Margaret and Mordecai handle the issue of band selection.

"Hey, Eileen!"

"Oh, Hi Rigby! Shouldn't you be over there with Mordecai?"

"Well, I was, but it seems he'd rather listen to Margaret than me."

"Oh, that's unfortunate."

"Not really, just Mordecai being Mordecai. Anyways, could you get me a strawberry milkshake?"

"Sure thing"

"Hold on a sec, make that two strawberry milkshakes."

"Who's the second one for?"

"You..." Eileen's eyes lit up, a joyous expression of love crept across her face.

"Could it be? Does Rigby share the same feelings as I?" she wondered.

...

"Well, I figured since I'll need somebody to talk to... I wouldn't want to have you sit here and watch me drink a strawberry milkshake by myself."

"Thank you, Rigby! That's so nice of you."

"Don't thank me, thank Benson!" said he as he pulled out the Corporate American Express card Benson gave him.

"My shift ends in about [Eileen peers down at her watch] 15 minutes. Can we have the milkshakes then?"

"No problem!" Rigby replied.


Back at Mordecai's table, Mordecai explains the situation to Margaret.


"So the Park is having its 100th anniversary, making this year's Spring Gala extra special. Benson's put Rigby and me in charge of band selection. The problem is every band we've called so far is booked! Well, not every band, Rigby wants to hire a heavy metal group, but he seems to forget that our audience is all boomers."

"Hmmm, I see."

"So when is the party?"

"Friday, the 27th. A little over three weeks from now."

"What type of music?"

"Oldies, classic rock. It's a formal get-together. Like I said, it's mostly older folks, so we can't get too crazy with the music"

"I think I know someone who can help."

And with that, Margaret stood up, leaned towards the computer, and began to type.

As she hunched over the keyboard, the small glimpse of cleavage became a wide-angle view. From Mordecai's vantage point, he could see much of her round shapely breasts, which barely fit into her black silk bra. As one might imagine, this provided him with quite a distraction.

"Let's see... ...no that's no it...umm, that's not it either... AHA! Eureka! Got it."

Margaret typed several URL's into the address bar of the web browser before getting the correct one.

The page took several minutes to load on the Coffee Shop's slow Wifi connection, giving Margaret plenty of time to talk.

"About a year and a half ago..." she started.

"I took this music journalism class at the community college. We had to interview a local band or musician and write a newspaper article about it for our final. Aside from getting a good grade for the class, the best articles would be published in the Gazette. Needless to say, I was quite stoked. Before I took the class, I met this guy Tommy Sax (actually, it's spelled Sachs, but he uses Sax as his stage name), busking with his saxophone in the town square. I bought one of his demo CD's and took a liking to it. He and the band play a mixture of covers and original material, and they are quite talented. Naturally, I picked him to interview. Unfortunately, I was late in getting the assignment in. So while I got the 'A', the article, to my knowledge, never got published."

Margaret, seeing the page fully loaded, paused for a bit to scroll through some of the pictures.

Meanwhile, Mordecai stood there silent and fixated, trying to look at the screen but spending most of the time staring down Margaret's shirt.

Still, he caught a fleeting glimpse of Tommy, who looked strangely familiar.

"It turns out the story did get published two weeks later, unbeknownst to me, in a different paper, one that functions more like a trade journal for musicians, kind of like NME."

Noticing a certain photo on the website, Margaret paused her scrolling. It was a photo of Margaret interviewing Tommy "Sax" Sachs. She was sitting on a stool wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans, holding a Dictaphone mini tape recorder. Across from her sat Tommy, with his trademark red mullet and mustache. He was wearing black-rimmed shades, black suspenders, black dress pants, black leather shoes, and a white sleeveless undershirt. Strung loosely across his chest was a silver-plated tenor saxophone.

"Anyhow, three months ago, I get this strange letter in the mail. In it, was an autographed photo of me interviewing him, and a short hand-signed note. The note thanked me for giving him and the band the biggest break of their careers. It turns out, the article led to them getting hired for a residency at the Sticky Fingers Blues Club down on 13th Street. Which in turn, lead them to land a deal with Pacific Records. Anyhow, he included a schedule for their upcoming tour, and his contact information (phone, band webpage, and email), and tells that if I was in town for any of those dates, he could hook me and my friends up with backstage passes and free tickets..."

Margaret rummaged through her purse and pulled out a crumpled sheet of white paper and a faded business card. "Bingo!" she cried and placed them on the table.

"It looks like on the 25th, they're playing in Sacramento. But on the 28th, they will be in Chicago. It might be cutting it close, but it's worth a shot. Whadya think, Mordecai, shall I give him a call?"

"Huh, Whu?" said Mordecai, upon hearing his name.

"Are you even paying attention to me?" Margaret asked.

"Ummm, yeah, Ummm" replied an embarrassed Mordecai.

Noticing the direction of Mordecai's eyes, Margaret concluded the obvious: "Let me guess, you were too busy staring at my boobs."

"Uhhh, no I wasn't," said Mordecai both sheepishly and defensively.

"Yeah, you were!" sniggered Rigby, who overhead the entire conversation with his raccoon ears. Mordecai, however, didn't hear Rigby.

"Umm, OK, I admit, I was. Sorry!" continued Mordecai.

"It's OK, Mordecai." replied the robin, in a soothing voice, as she patted him on the head.

"Don't feel bad about it," she continued while she buttoned the two remaining buttons on her blouse that she forgot about earlier.

"I mean, if it were another guy, one that I wasn't interested in, I would probably have slapped him or something... But with you, I don't know. I think it's cute in a way. It means that you are attracted to me."

"So you are saying I should continue staring at your boobs then?" replied Mordecai jokingly.

"No dumbass, I want you to stare at the screen, so I can get your opinion regarding this band."

Mordecai looked at the images on the screen. Sure enough, it was him. Tommy Sachs is Sad Sax Guy. A look of fear crept across his face. "My God, it's him, it's really him," he thought.

"Mordecai, is there something wrong?" asked Margaret, concerned at the bluejay's sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't think we should hire him, Margaret" he replied quickly in a worried tone.

"How come?"

"Tommy Sachs and 'Sad Sax Guy' are the same guy," said Mordecai in a low fearful voice.

"Sad Sax Guy? Who's he?" asked Margaret curiously.

"You wouldn't understand this but... He's this guy who appears out of nowhere and plays his saxophone right before something bad is about to happen to me."

He paused for a minute. Seeing the look of confusion on Margaret's face, he continued:

"Margaret! Please, we cannot have him play. He'll bring us bad luck. And God knows, with the full band present, some kind of crazy, fucked-up, terrible, awful shit will befall us. Y'know, like a giant asteroid smashing into the Earth, or something." said Mordecai, his voice starting to shake with fear.

"Mordecai, I understand your cause for concern. But he may be our only choice! It's this guy or no band."

"No band then. Benson will fire me, that's for sure! But if something bad happens, it's on me. I cannot put the Park through this! I cannot put you through this!"

Mordecai puts his arm around Margaret, but she pulls away, taken aback by his behavior.

"Mordecai, don't be silly! You said he brings bad luck to you, but it seems like he brought good luck to me. Or rather, I brought good luck to him. Either way, good luck cancels out bad. Problem solved!"

"That's not how it works."

Margaret's voice tensed as she spoke. She felt Mordecai was being irrational and quickly becoming annoying. Sad Sax/Tommy Sachs seemed like the best candidate for the job under the current circumstances. Mordecai would need to offer her a better explanation if she were to rule him out.

"It's not? Then please explain. I got less than ten minutes 'til my shift starts. I didn't come here early, just to accomplish nothing. You asked for my help, and I'm offering it to you. Take it or leave it!"

"OK, and I appreciate, 100%. But like I said, whenever something bad happens, this Sad Sax motherfucker shows up. When I broke up with my last girlfriend, Sad Sax Guy was there. When I dropped out of art school, he was there! When I was coming home from college, I crashed the car my folks got me for high school graduation. And guess who was jamming on the Sax right before the freaking accident! No, Margaret. I cannot have him play here. If he shows up again, I will lose everything: I will lose my job; I will lose you; Hell, I may even lose my best friend, Rigby."

"''Preciate that!" Rigby interjected from across the room.

"We may even lose the World," he said, his face blank with fear, akin to a deer in headlights.

"Mordecai! Hold up! I think you got it all wrong... All these bad things that happened to you... Well, maybe they happen for a good reason. I mean, sometimes bad things have to happen to make way for the good. So maybe Tom, or 'Sad Sax Guy' as you call him, isn't some evil omen. Rather, 'Sad Sax Guy' is the bearer of good news, a herald of new beginnings, if you will. Listen, if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have gotten the job at the Park, and you wouldn't have met me! [kissing him on the cheek]. I still have 7 minutes left [glancing at her watch], let's give him a call [squeezing his hand]."

Mordecai thought about what she said as his mind drifted back to the car accident:

It was late at night on a pitch-black two-lane road.

He was driving home from college for winter break, on what must've been 2 hours of sleep, and his brain was in a fog. His mind kept blanking in and out, and he could barely drive in a straight line. The curious music and the strange sight of a man standing in the shoulder playing the saxophone, his face illuminated by the high beams of his parked car, helped him regain his focus.

And not a moment too soon, as he barely had enough time to swerve out of the way of a giant elk standing in the middle of the road.

He crashed the car into a ditch and damaged the front end. However, it wasn't totaled, and he could get it repaired. More importantly, both the deer and he escaped serious injury.

...

"You know something? You're right; You are absolutely right. Margaret?" declared Mordecai, his confidence renewed.

"Yes?"

"Let's do this. Let's call his ass up," said Mordecai.

"Excellent!" she said as she pulled out her cellphone and placed it on the table between herself and Mordecai.


She dialed the number on the business card and put the phone into speaker mode.

After a few rings, a man with a gruff voice picked up the phone.

"Hello, Is this Tommy Sachs?" asked Margaret.

"Yep, It's him! Who's this?"

"Margaret Smith"

"Margaret Smith...hmmm... Margaret Smith... Where have I heard that name before... Oh Wait, Don't tell me! You're that interview chick, Amirite?"

"Yup, that's me!" said Margaret with a laugh.

"Well, I guess that means you got my little note, then. It's been a couple of months since I sent it to ya. When I didn't hear back from ya, I thought maybe I put down the wrong address or something."

"Well, here I am! And I'm here with my friend Mordecai, who needs to ask a very special favor from you."

"Mordecai, you mean the bluebird dude?"

"Yup, that's me," said Mordecai with an awkward laugh. Phone calls were never his strong suit.

"Holy Shit! Small freakin' world ain't it? Ain't that something. My gal pal, Margie, hanging out with my main man, Mordo! Damn, what a happy coincidence!"

"You seemed pretty down last time we spoke. Dropped outta school; broke up with the ladyfriend. And now, here you are: Working a new job at the Park and rollin' with dear ol' Margie."

"Well, you could say I'm in a much better place now," replied Mordecai, with a smile.

"Well, that's good to hear... Anyhow, tell me... How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Ummm, well, uh, we've known each other for more than a year. But we've been dating, if you want to call it that, for about..."

Mordecai turns to Margaret and asks, "5 Months?"

"5 Months," she replied.

"5 Months," said Mordecai into the receiver.

"Excellent!"

"And Margie, has he been treating you well for those five months?"

"Ummm. For the most part." giggled Margaret.

"Well, that's good. Cuz if he weren't, jus' lemme know, and I'll be sure to beat his ass for you."

"OK, Tom," giggled Margaret again.

"Anyways, Sad Sax Guy," said Mordecai

"Please, call me Tom."

"OK then, Tom!"

"You know how I'm working for the park now?"

"Yesssss..."

"Well, um, on Friday, April 27th, the park celebrates its 100th anniversary."

"Well, Congratulations!"

"Thanks! Anyways. We're throwing a big gala that night. Party runs from 6 PM until midnight. And, we'd like you and the crew to be the house band."

"Ordinarily, I'd say no, as our asses are flying out to Chicago the next day. But since it's you, AND ONLY because it's you, my dear Mordecai, I'm in."

"Great. So how much will it cost? Not that it matters so much, Mr. Maellard'll cut the check. Just that, I need a number for the budget."

"Bro, it's free! Just remember to plug our new CD."

"Thank you, Tom. This means so much to us at the Park!"

"Hey, Pleasure's mine, Mordo! Pleasure's mine..."

[Suddenly, indistinct chatter from Tommy's bandmates can be heard in the background]

"Anyhoo, gotta bounce. Need to rehearse a few new numbers for tonight's gig."

"Thanks, Tom."

"Anytime... Anytime..."

A loud click and Tom hung up.


"See Mordecai! That wasn't so bad!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you Margaret for convincing me! You really saved our asses with Benson."

"Anytime, babe!" said Margaret, kissing him on the cheek.

Margaret looked down at her watch and got up. "Welp, time to punch in. Guess I'll see you around."

Margaret walked towards the large timeclock in the kitchen to punch in and begin her shift.

"Guess I'll see you around, as well..." Mordecai replied, wistfully, watching as she made her way towards the kitchen. "God, she's so beautiful," he thought to himself.

"WAIT!" Suddenly Mordecai remembered something. He got up and ran towards her. He intercepted her behind the counter, in front of the kitchen door grabbing her arm from behind.

Startled, Margaret turned around. "HUH!?" she exclaimed.

"Margaret, there's something I forgot to ask you."

"Sure, what is it? Be quick; I got to punch in!"

"I'll be quick. You know that Gala the Park's hosting?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, Maellard's invited the entire staff, and he plans to honor our service with an awards ceremony. The mayor and a bunch of other famous types are supposed to be there. So it should be pretty cool."

"That's wonderful, Mordecai."

"But, there's more. Not only will the staff be invited, but we are allowed to bring guests along for free."

Mordecai then nervously stuttered and slurred his next words:

"S-s-so, my question umm iz...You don't have to say yes or something, b-b-b-ut you know...ummm ummm... *thwpx* [Mordecai stuck out his tongue, and blew to regain composure, his nervousness leaving him like the saliva flying off his tongue]. Will you be my guest for the Gala? It doesn't have to be a date. I mean, it could be a date, if you want."

"Yes, Mordecai, I want to go, and yes, I want to be your date," replied Margaret calmly and clearly.

Mordecai's eyes lit up but faded quickly before he could shout, "YES!".

"I just have one little problem."

"What's that?" Mordecai asked in a somber tone.

"Well, I need to check with my manager first and see if I can take that day off."

"Oh, OK. How soon will you know?"

"Eileen, Is Joe coming in this afternoon?" shouted Margaret at her friend.

"I believe so. He and the owner, George, are supposed to be demo'ing the new espresso machine," shouted back Eileen.

"Well, there's your answer. I'll let you know tonight. Or if it's too late, tomorrow morning."

"Awesome, I look forward to hearing from you, one way or another."

"Well...gotta go!"

Margaret hurried into the kitchen to begin her shift. Mordecai walked towards Rigby's table and started talking to him.

"Rigby, let's go! Time we tell Benson the good news about the band."

"That's OK, Mordecai. I'm gonna stay here and talk with Eileen."

"Alright, suit yourself." Mordecai left the coffee shop and headed back to the Park.


Eileen and Rigby sit at a booth, talking about random subjects while sipping their strawberry milkshakes.

Midway through his shake, Rigby asks an important question.

"So, Eileen, quick question..."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go to the Gala with me?"

Sure! I'd love to go."

"Awesome!"

"Now, another question. Do you mind if I bring my dorky Dad along? I kinda need him to be there."

"No, not all."

"Great!"

Rigby hugged Eileen, which caused her to blush.

"Anyways, I'm almost done with this milkshake. Mordo's probably back at the Park by now. I bet Benson's wondering where I am."

"Alright, Let me get you a to-go cup."

Eileen grabbed Rigby's shake and went back to the kitchen.

Moments later, she emerged with a paper cup filled to the brim with strawberry milkshake and topped with a plastic lid and straw.

"Cook topped it off for you, so now you get two shakes for the price of one!"

"Sweet, that's so nice of you!" Rigby kissed Eileen on the cheek and took the milkshake from her hand. Eileen blushed.

"Well, gotta go! See you around!" Rigby waved goodbye and headed out the front door.

"See you around!" replied Eileen wistfully.

"I guess he does like me" she said to herself with a smile.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: Finally, we introduce Margaret. I wanted to highlight the mutual physical attraction between the two birds yet leave things on an ambiguous note. Because of Chapter 1, it's clear to the reader, but Mordecai is still unsure of the depth of her attraction to him. And I want to leave it open to interpretation as to how much of that uncertainty stems from mixed messages coming from Margaret and how much stems from Mordecai's self-doubt. I also want to contrast that with Eileen and Rigby's budding relationship. I added Sad Sax Guy as a character in this chapter and gave him a real name and a band. He is my favorite minor character in the show. Depending on your perspective, one can interpret him as a harbinger of hope or a prophet of doom, or just a guy that's there to make you feel good when you're depressed. Since his band will be performing at the Gala, expect to see more of him in subsequent chapters.