The hourly rate was lower than The Grand Bell’s, but Malcolm showed me the tip policy in writing and introduced me to every member of the staff as though my existence was not an inconvenience.

On my first shift, the dishwasher, Mrs.

June Watkins, brought me a plate of eggs before opening.

“Eat,” she ordered.

“Nobody makes good decisions on an empty stomach.”

At nine, the line stretched to the door.

I carried mugs, cleared plates, and apologized to customers when the old register froze.

By noon, my feet ached in a familiar, almost comforting way.