When We Were Lions on Brickell Avenue

 Ah, heady times for my partner Paul and me -- in the mid 90s, when we founded our law firm. A new restaurant started up then, before Brickell became, essentially, Midtown Manhattan, and we would go frequently. It was Capital Grill, an outpost of the famous D.C. steakhouse -- took over from Cye's Rivergate.

Cye's, owned by Cye Mandel, who got rich helping the Indians get into the casino business, was old school Miami. I used to visit when I was a young lawyer -- a few times ex president Nixon was there with his Cuban bud Bebe Rebozo, and a couple serious looking Secret Service guys, talking into their shoulders.

But Capital Grill was something -- still is. Paul convinced me to spring for a wine locker -- you paid, I think, $200 and got your name on a placque, and could keep your own stash of bottles there. The real purpose was for other lawyers and bankers to see your name and figure you were a big shot. We never put any wine in the locker, but it was fun to show the Ds and Wifey our names up there when they visited. They still have the lockers -- but the names are all of much younger guys.

Yesterday we stopped in for lunch -- and sat at the bar. The server was Jen -- there since 1999. We recalled her as a young girl -- now she has a son just graduating Columbus High, and headed to FSU. She smiled when she saw us -- recalled us well. We were lions on Brickell then. Paul was having drinks with Allison when they met a young lawyer, Steven (NEVER STEVE). Paul introduced them, even though he didn't know Steven. I never really liked the guy -- probably because he always corrected people who called him Steve. But they married, have two college aged daughters now, and are long divorced. Allison lives in Cooper City, and Steven is in a North Miami Beach apartment with a young new girlfriend. How cliched.

Anyway, we recalled some of our great times. Once we had dinner with Alan, Paul's friend since law school, and later disbarred. Some of his, um, female friends joined us, and they were not used to places like the Grill. They grew quite loud, and the manager Angela, a lovely lesbian who we had befriended, told us we had to keep it down, or leave. Alan kept it down.

Another time, we settled a case with "Cute Roberto," as the secretaries called the referral attorney. Sweet, naive seeming fellow. We handed him a check for $200K in our office, and then went to meet his lovely young wife for lunch. He asked we not mention the windfall -- he wanted to do it. He was so boyish.

We ordered cocktails, and then he said "Honey -- meeting these guys was the best thing to happen to my career. I sent them a case from primo Gonzalo, and we're celebrating the settlement. Before we came, they handed me a check for TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!" The wife beamed -- would pay for her new kitchen, she said. Paul and I kept poker faced -- wondering what Al had planned for the other $190K.

The tales were too numerous to mention, but Jen reminded me of one. One night I went to the men's room. Across from it, they had old style phone booths, with glass doors. I came out of the men's room and noticed a woman I recognized -- a JCC Mom. She was, well, not making a phone call with the fellow in the booth with her, who was bald. Her husband had a full head of hair. She saw me and put her fingers to her lips in a "let's keep this quiet" signal. I did -- all the way to the bar -- Jen knew her and her carryings on. Funny thing is -- her kids are now grown, and she's still married to the hirsute husband. I never liked him either -- too full of himself. Maybe the bald guy was more humble -- and fun.

So we shared a steak sandwich and a wedge salad, and 3 martinis. We each ordered one, and then shared the third. Jen essentially poured two full ones more -- I told Paul that this little trick was the best thing he ever thought of.

We walked back to the office -- no longer lions of 33 and 44. Now we're 61 and 72. Miami is no city for old men -- everyone we passed on the crowded sidewalks was younger than us. And that's ok.

Our trip back to our old restaurant was delightful. Jen told us they're knocking down the building, and preserving the Tequesta burial and society grounds under it. They're building two high rises west on the river -- Bacarrat themed. The plan is to relocate the Capital Grill into the lobby of one of them. Progress.

But those were the days for us...