muscle memory
For eight years, I waited tables at the Bongo Room in Wicker Park (which has the greatest food in this city. FYI: don't go on a weekend). I covered all school loans, built up the IRA, bought really hot shoes, got tons of material, learned a thing or two about dealing with people and made lifelong friends who, with my family living far away, function as my family here. I'm now in the fortunate position of supporting myself from teaching alone, and haven't worked there for a year; however, Molly is abroad for six weeks and I am picking up her shifts while on summer break. I started back yesterday, and am very proud to report that I still make a fucking good cappuccino.
Thank you very much