When Ben Met Dick at the Commodore Hotel: The Unexpected Cosmic Collision You Didn’t See Coming
Added on July 10, 2025 inASTROLOGY CARDS
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Ever wonder what happens when a pack of true characters—mostly gay men—meet a head chef so homophobic he practically stirs the controversy as much as the soup? Well, picture this: the stars have aligned in a cosmic clash at The Commodore Hotel, where the air is thick with tension thicker than a Leo’s mane on Mercury retrograde. Enter Dick—a chef whose name might prompt a chuckle, but whose attitude is anything but funny. There was an uneasy truce between Dick and the “wolves,” the restaurant’s lively crew, until Ben walked in like a Scorpio with something to prove. Suddenly, the old rules flipped faster than a Gemini’s mood swing, and the kitchen became a stage for a battle of wits and wills that’s equal parts absurd and fierce. So, how does chaos unfold when old grudges face new fire under the restless gaze of Uranus? Dive in, and find out why this story is anything but your usual dinner drama. LEARN MORE.
The Commodore Hotel
Catch up here: The Commodore Hotel – A True Story
I still didn’t know why all the controversy around, Ben, but I found out fast enough. By now I hope you have an idea the concentration of gay men in this restaurant, but I haven’t told you everything. Right smack in the middle of all of them is a homophobic chef.
Do I mean slightly homophobic?
No. He was rabid and his name was, Dick.
No really. That’s his name. “Dick”.
I didn’t know this before Ben showed up for work. Reason is because there was uneasy truce between, “Dick”, and the pack of wolves. Everyone knew where everyone stood and no one was going anywhere. Everyone liked their job at the Commodore.
Dick was the head chef, and he was also the kitchen manager. This was a job with prestige. He was bringing home good bucks, and not apt to quit. He was the very skilled head of purchasing. The big boss, who was skimming, appreciated that the restaurant was hugely profitable. Dick’s job was safe.
Historically Dick would make derogatory remarks to the various waiters. When it got to be egregious, they would form pairs or small groups for support and complain to Den Mother. She would be wearing that day’s belted flowered dress, hemmed at mid calf. She was a very tall woman, who had found a style that flattered her and then had a 10 or 12 dresses custom made. Same dress, different flowered fabric, flat black shoes, hair up for the instant face-lift effect.
She would look properly worried and bothered and express her concern, but she was powerless to help because she had no authority over, Dick. All she could do is coo, and try her best to soothe while looking over their shoulders, (she was that tall) and glaring at, Dick, in a “how dare you upset my children” sort of way.
Less often one the the pack went up the ladder to the big boss. He was their ace in the hole. He would have a talk with, Dick, who would make one more “sissy” quip just to get the last word in. Then it would all calm down again until the next time. This is all according to, Mary Jane, who just loved to talk to me for some reason.
What triggered, Dick? No telling. He was not consistent. Sometimes he would laugh at bits of their conversation, but the next time he would blow a gasket and become beet red and go on a tear. Sometimes it would be a lecture on morality. Other times he would spew a bunch of filth of his own that he did not seem able to control.
His tirades were abusive. They would escalate, complaints would be made, and the whole cycle would repeat. Most days Dick managed to limit himself to a one or two subtle insults per day. The pack found this tolerable for the most part. Dick was outgunned (no pun). They treated him like he was a price to pay. Amazingly, especially for the era, he was the only one out of fifty people associated with this restaurant who was having a problem, so the wolf pack’s attitude was to let him drone on. Then Ben showed up.
If Ben and I had instant affinity, Ben and Dick had the opposite that. Ben came to work, Dick made a comment designed to introduce him to the unspoken arrangement. The rules of the road.
Ben looked him in the eye and made two quips back, with an eyebrow cocked.
Dick steps back like, “Oh! So you want to tango, you faggot?”
Ben told him in very specific terms that there were new rules now. “I’ve seen pricks like you before,” he explained.
Dick has never been called a prick (to his face) by any of the waiters, He rises up on his toes to spin like a ballerina, and says something girly to mock Ben.
Ben – “That’s it? If that is all you know how to do with your body, I’m not gonna touch you.” Big smile.
Veins pop out of Dick’s forehead. Before he can respond, Ben takes the plates of food, Dick, has just prepared. He thanks him sweetly and leaves to serve his customers. Then over his shoulder he tells Dick, “Get busy cooking Chef Boyardee. Table 4 is in a hurry!” Wink!
Dick looks around at all the open mouths – and barks “What are you looking at? Get back to work you bunch of queers.”
We do, but we’re laughing. It is a new day.
Mary Jane: “See. What’d I tell you?.
To be continued…
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