More Than a Makeover: A H I G H E R T H I N G S __ 8
hen I was 16, I was a bus boy at a local restaurant. I bussed a lot of tables in those days. Now most of it’s just a big blur of dealing with half-eaten dinners, dirty spoons, and washing the sneeze-guard over the salad bar. But I remember one night like it happened yesterday.
W
Going about my routine, I suddenly noticed a waitress walking from room to room asking for a doctor. I was wiping tables in dining room number four, but I could see that there was some kind of commotion down the hall.
C
