This time tomorrow my toes will be trotting the floor at Court Square Tavern, returning to the place where they tapped around the last time my life went through the re-imagining process. The regular waitress is taking a night off so there is an opening. It's been such a long time since I waited tables for a living, and now I find myself in need of a little extra money.
It's been three years now since the fire, and the place is radically different. The Tavern reopened about a year and a half ago, and it's just now beginning to find its groove. Service is more consistent. The food menu is more consistent, and there's always a good beer special. The smoke is gone. There's wi-fi in the joint. I'm in good shape.
It's going to be weird to be back in the place, clearing tables, taking orders, telling people about beer. I'll talk to dozens of people, so many more than I do in my current job. I don't meet many new people in real life. I'm looking forward to the conversations.
I'm looking forward to the occasional shift there. I miss the place, and I'm looking forward to whatever reflections come my way during the shift. Come on in if you want a nice warm place to hang out on a cold wintry night. We've got warm food and good beer and if you've been wanting an excuse to go, this is the one!
Striking down the mundane and dastardly while retaining a certain obscure turn of phrase, denoting something elusive yet concrete.
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