1) The unthinkable became inevitable when the closing of Doyle’s was announced in September. The inevitable became unavoidable yesterday, the planned-but-unannounced closing night. It was my desire to be the last customer out, and to get my favorite little booth in the center room. So I packed a bag and ankled over about 4 PM. in the words of the late Countess of Trentham, “I don’t want to miss anything.”
1a) Yes, I packed a bag! Laptop, journal, notebook, pen, Cecil Beaton’s The Glass of Fashion, a history of the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia (in case I finished the Beaton), Weeping Baby Pumpkin Head (because it’s October), and three clean white handkerchiefs, which I was sure I’d need. I expected to be bawling at the end of the night.
2) They had reserved my little booth for me. And I’d barely sat down and ordered a cup of coffee before Rick Berlin Himself, Jill, and a couple other staff ambushed me with a couple gifts: a limited-edition wooden Christmas ornament with the Doyle’s logo and the dates, and a framed photo of me with several of the staff, taken night before last and signed by almost everyone. I was truly not expecting that, and I was deeply moved.
2a) I knew I was settling in for the long haul, so I ordered a coffee when I arrived, my first manhattan of the night at 5, my customary order of wing dings with bleu cheese at 6, and then dinner about 7.
3) The place felt quite full when I arrived, and word was getting around that this was The End. Across the aisle from me was a family party with a little blonde girl about three years old and her attentive young uncle (I hope he was her uncle) with such an attractive voice I could’ve listened to him read the phone book for days.
4) Suddenly my phone went off. A text message from a friend from ye Instytytte with a photo of her and her boyfriend at Doyle’s. “Are you here now?!” I replied. I dashed to the back room - and nearly collided with her coming to find me! A joyous reunion - we hadn’t seen each other since I left the office in July. This was not the sort of meeting I expected on the last night at Doyle’s - but how wonderful it was!
4a) Later she found another former colleague and dragged him in from the front room, and we three stood about chatting - and were then approached by still another colleague from ye Instytytte. Again, how wonderful!
5) My second manhattan came around the time my dinner did. For my last dinner I ordered the steak tips (which I almost never did) with rice and broccoli. This may sound disloyal, but it’s not news: one didn’t go to Doyle’s for the food, which was solid but quite ordinary (although their pizza is fabulous). In fact, one dear friend just refused point blank to return for brunch ever again because of the coffee. And yet their buffalo chicken mac and cheese was the best comfort food ever. I never really had any complaints.
5a) The one possible advantage to Doyle’s closing is that I am very likely to lose some weight!
6) Just before dinner, I was surprised to recognize a pair of eyes looking at me from the booth on the other side of the partition: a friend I’d never seen here before with his husband. So we had some good chat.
7) More than a few times I’d just look up from my book and take in the vista of the center room (I always sit facing in, not toward the windows; I have no idea why). The painted tin ceiling, the double row of milk glass pendant lights - so representative of a particular period of American architecture and design, so basic and unpretentious, and . . . and soon this room will no longer be here. People forget that authenticity is simple, not precious.
8) I was having one of those moments after my dinner dishes had been cleared when the face of my best friend unexpectedly filled my view. “What are you doing here?!” Craig’s arrival shifted my focus from the occasion to conversation, and to Weeping Baby Pumpkin Head, which Craig enjoyed playing with. He stayed for a couple hours, leaving about 10:30.
9) Throughout the evening I was, and then wasn’t, counting the hours. By the time Craig left, only I and another party of two were seated in the center room, while the front room sounded quite rowdy and standees were getting pushed into the center room entrance. My attention was diverted by a group text with friends until about 11:30ish.
10) But all I’ve ever wanted is to sit in my booth and read my book. This night was no different, but at times I found myself getting impatient with Beaton’s longwinded fawning over Dior and Balenciaga. His comments on other personalities, trends, and situations were much more engaging. I’ve read so many books here, from every possibie category of my library.
Rick Berlin Himself!
11) After 11:30 various people would stop by to talk or say thanks or farewell, including Rick Berlin Himself, always a favorite. And from a couple of the young women on the staff I heard about how they’d have to call people out for trying to take pictures off the walls, especially during the last week. The perpetrators allegedly had family connections to the memorabilia they were trying to steal - but that doesn’t make it right, especially since these people hadn’t been back to Doyle’s in about 25 years!
With Andrea. Notice her beautiful white granite pendant! I am wearing the Doyle’s Christmas ornament I’d been given earlier in the evening.
11a) From the Small World Smaller Department: Andrea, another favorite, has as her roommate the gentleman who was my buyer’s agent when I bought my condo in 2003! We’d met at Doyle’s a couple times before, but he was there for the last night, too, and we three had a good conversation.
12) While Rick was at my table, we heard some sort of commotion in the front room. I heard later that it was the announcement of last call. The last last call.
13) Truly I wanted to be the last customer out the door, but people just would not leave. About 1:15 AM I decided it was time to pack up and go home. I took a last tour of the place, starting in the back room, where Mickey was totaling up the night’s receipts at the big round table. Then I went through to the front room, where there were maybe 30 people hanging around. None of them looked familiar, but then I wasn’t accustomed to being at Doyle’s after 10 PM on any given night. :-)
With Young Mr. Burke in the Governor’s Box by the front door.
14) And I said good night and thank you to Young Mr. Burke, who worked so valiantly to keep the place going. He looked like he was in a happy place, and I’m glad for him.
15) Because it was after closing time, the front door was already closed and locked. I had to exit from the street door in the center room, onto Washington Street. Turning left, an ambulance filled my view at the corner. No idea what was going on - in the background I could see some of the usual spillover crowd from the Midway, where a live performance was audible on the street - but it didn’t seem to involve anyone from Doyle’s.
16) So I didn’t need any of those clean white handkerchiefs after all. No tears, not really - just the occasional spasm.
17) And that’s how it ends. As Ruth Sebag-Montefiore said at the end of that wonderful BBC documentary Debutantes, “It was unique. It’ll never come again. So, it’s a lovely memory.” And the second Mrs. DeWinter: “We can never go back to Manderley. But sometimes, in my dreams, I do go back.” I never had just one go-to place until I moved down the street from Doyle’s in 2003, and I doubt that I will in the future. But there was never a better place in Boston to curl up with a drink and a good book.
The front door, now shut forever.