There Are Places I Remember.

So, that Chinese restaurant I worked at. It was owned by Kent and Mary Chen, but run by a wizened and weathered old bird named Dolly. She used to manage Dukes, for any of you in GR who know the reference.

The waitresses were all non-Asian women, and I surprisingly remember most of them, including their names. There were also two busboys, who were Chinese, named Bah (quiet, hunched, & shy...I can actually still replay his soft voice in my head) and Tahn (gregarious and personable; he occasionally waited tables and always made at least double of the rest of us).

The kitchen staff were all Mexicans. Tony was the lead cook and a ridiculous, mostly annoying flirt. Kent Chen owned a house where every one of them lived. Knowing what I know about Mr. C, it is very likely that they were illegal. But I'm not sure if I knew that at the time.

We had cockroaches. Gross, but true: few people cared because the food really was gorgeous. Hell, maybe it was the extra protein that made it so.

My fellow waitresses:

Mary, whose family came from Lebanon, once told me that the Turks claimed to have invented baklava, but that was bullshit; it was a Lebanese creation. Funny. I've heard this from nearly every country in that region. Sure, baklava is delicious, but this is your most important, most arguable claim?

Laura was a typical Midwesterner. Except she was in a sham marriage. I never knew all the details, but the mystery of this odd situation stuck with me. I ran into her half a year ago at the bookstore. She looked exactly, I mean exactly, the same—down to the tightly-pulled ponytail that sprouted from the top of her head. I'm talking 20+ years. No change. That's crazy.

Deb: told everyone that the delicious, honey-sweet rolls we served with every meal were rice rolls. I once noted aloud that I didn't know that and she said she'd just made it up. It seemed to please the customers that they were an ancient Chinese secret of sorts and so she continued to perpetuate the myth. Deb also had a 13-year-old daughter who participated in a study I did for a college course on learning and development.

There were two sisters whose names escape me, but I am hoping will come to me, but not necessarily in the middle of the night. It's not that important. They both worked alternately at Hong Kong Inn and Little Mexico, trading off when the exasperation of one exceeded the other. About ten years after, I did find the older sister bartending at the south of the border locale. She made me a Southern Comfort Manhattan with extra cherries.

That's about all.