Have my starter wedge and am going to touch base at the door before collecting cover charges from the early arrivals. Sitting on the stylish wood bench near the door was a mass of humanity with a mop of long hair that covered his eyes. As I approach him he takes a Sasquatch-size hand and brushes his hair aside. I ask for the five bucks and he says, “I play bass in the band.” We talk and I learn that he recently got back from playing in a trio for the past 11 months on a cruise trip—five hours every evening including Saturdays and Sundays. “So, you’re warmed up for tonight’s gig,” I say. He enjoys the cruise ship lifestyle and is signed up for a three-month commitment on another ship, which departs in a few weeks. As The Doorman of the jazz club I have astute insights. My psychoanalytic assessment from talking with and observing him is that he is a shy, insecure young man. On the ship, he is a recognized celebrity because of his role and size. At sea, he receives praise and admiration. He gets the cake and the girl (the girl may even serve him cake). As I suspected, he is dang good. He played his double bass like his first girlfriend—genuine affection mixed with urgency. The quartet played standards and originals. I enjoyed their version of Miles’ “So What,” which sounded close to the original. I like musicians who respect a piece of musical perfection enough to play it as it is rather than adding their own interpretation. The Miles Davis imprimatur was not violated.