Brian made it to work with ten minutes to spare. The renovated corner brick building in downtown was an icon, and he felt a rush of pride as he knocked at the back door. A man in his forties greeted him.
Brian said, “I’m supposed to start work today as the new helper.”
The man said, in an Italian accent, “Go to the front and see Rico.”
“Thank you.” He walked through the kitchen, feeling like he belonged. He became a camera with the shutter stuck open, seeing everything, including the walk-in freezer and refrigerator. The place looked spotless, an important issue to him. Groovy!
His dad loved the place, even though it was pricy, but whenever they could afford it, they ate here. Brian had applied for the job because he’d overheard waiters talking about needing a morning helper. The owner
