I work nights at the restaurant, serving all kinds of food to all kinds of people. I serve drinks to minors, and I hate people who order manhattans. Becky works with me. We don’t clean the bathrooms, but we sign off on the cleaning sheet that they were done. “I ain’t no Merry Maid,” she says. One of us vacuums while the other looks for money under the cushions in the booths. We split the change fifty-fifty, that’s the deal. Once we found a small packet of cocaine. We split that fifty-fifty too. We drink our shift drinks and then … Continue reading A Million Miles Away