Short-Term Karma

The man on table 23 raises his hand and performs the scribble signal for the check. I nod in acknowledgment and head to the POS computer to print it up. All in all 23 wasn’t a bad table – man, wife, mother-in-law – the usual kind of late Sunday...

Bread and Circuses

It’s Sunday evening and I’m exhausted. I feel like the previous Friday and Saturday nights excised more than their usual pound of psychic flesh. “You look tired,” Monique, our Sunday hostess observes. “I’m feeling wiped out...

9 Millimeter Hostess

It’s seven o’clock on Saturday night. Every seat in the Bistro has someone’s name on it. But that doesn’t stop people without reservations from trying to get in. “Where’s Fluvio?” an impatient customers huffs, nervously waving...

Cold Autumn

Its Saturday night. Beth and I are drinking dirty martinis at Istanbul, a Turkish restaurant with a great bar and live music. I’m keen on seeing some belly dancers. “Did you ever smoke a hookah?” Beth asks me, motioning to the ornate water pipes...

Save Your Breath

I’m drinking coffee in the kitchen watching Louis hyperventilate. It’s a pastime of mine. “Can I get my halibut for table three?” Louis yells. “Like today?” “Relax Louis,” I say. “The food’ll be out in a...