Hit the Mac Shack, a favorite restaurant and former place of employment, last night to celebrate the fact that the chemo worked and Dad has Nuked the Luk. At least for now. Hopefully for good.
You'd think restaurant staff would continue to turn over, but instead, the crew here is a family, welcoming John and I in with open arms and Spanish I don't understand quite as well as I used to. I binged, of course. What's a saladbration without excessive cream sauce?
I have so many memories of being a waitress---singing opera standing on wooden chairs, borrowing gigantic bottles of cheap chianti from the islands, writing kids' names in bubble letters on the tables, salsa dancing---and almost as good as the dancing---anticipating salsa night with the entire staff.
I always recommend serving as a job for college students because the money is great and the atmosphere is social. Mostly, you get paid to flirt with coworkers and run around more than you would at the gym. The gossip is delicious. Ah, the Mac Shack. A trip down memory lane.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment