Mara didn\u2019t typically listen to electronic music. Today, though, some tones and textures and moods felt appropriate. Beeps and bloops circling her ears, the occasional clip of dialogue from some 70s kung fu movie offering probably-unhelpful encouragement. She was about halfway to Olly\u2019s, on track to be twenty minutes early for her first shift, and she just now felt the anxiety slow. She had been too nervous to sit on the bus and the weather was nice, so synth textures were setting the pace for her walk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Music. Her comfort before a shift, and if things broke right, afterwards, too. A friend from college, Deja, was back in town for the first time in six months with her shoegaze trio, Gradient Purple. Deja played guitar like she was tossing giant aluminum sheets down a waterfall. The bass player and keyboardist, M, played fills like they were a salmon, expertly swimming upstream from Deja\u2019s tumbling chords. All of that ethereality was held together by Eric, the hard-hitting, flintknife drummer who played simple yet stakes-raising beats. God, Mara had missed them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, WaveRace97 was headlining, and Parth was going to join them on stage for a song, and Mara wanted to be there in case his humble ass forgot to tell people in the audience to check out Crystal Lake Counselors. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But first, a first shift. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The restaurant was almost completely empty when she arrived. An old man with newspapers and coffee in a booth. A woman in scrubs hurriedly finishing some sort of wrap. The lone server was a five-foot-two Latina with kind eyes and a genuine smile. She also wore her hair pulled back in a bun and had the sort of wiry-strong frame that came from a decade or two of whirring around a dining room carrying heavy trays. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey told me about you. Is it Mara? My name is Amparo,\u201d the server said. She was refilling ketchup bottles at the server station. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mara\u2019s non-slip shoes and loose black pants must\u2019ve given her away. \u201cGreat to meet you,\u201d she said. \u201cAre you the one who will be training me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Amparo finished wiping down the last bottle and turned to Mara. \u201cNah, that\u2019s Michael, but he is running late as always. I\u2019ll show you the locker room in the basement. That\u2019s where you can put your jacket and bag. Do you want some coffee or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mara opted for tea. She had been in basement locker rooms before, and this one had the same trappings as previous jobs: low ceilings and exposed pipes. Chipped paint. A few lockers. Nowhere to change except for a tiny, individual bathroom. A washer and dryer for linens. Mara was past being creeped out of these places\u2014what is going to happen in a restaurant basement, really\u2014but still didn\u2019t plan to spend a lot of time down there. Wearing a work shirt on the bus wasn\u2019t the worst thing in the world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
After she put her stuff down, she grabbed a menu to study. She\u2019d been to Olly\u2019s maybe twice before. Her impressions had been that it was a simple, no-frills diner that still cared about making good food. Classic dishes had signature flourishes. Mara remembered the breakfast burrito having fresh cilantro and scallion, which really brightened the buttery eggs and Oaxacan cheese. Melissa had ordered some sort of\u2014wait, here it was on the menu\u2014a vegetarian scramble with every diced veggie at the station, but also cheddar and<\/em> mozzarella cheese. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It was little things like that\u2014no trendy ingredients, just tweaks that both set the food apart and still tasted good. The menu wasn\u2019t small, but it wasn\u2019t outrageous. She imagined that being a cook here wasn\u2019t easy, but also was as bullshit-free as restaurant life could be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn came out of the kitchen. She remembered him from the interview, but now he was in Work Mode, looking a touch more harried. \u201cBad news, Amparo. Michael called out, so Mara\u2019s with you,\u201d he said. Then he turned to Mara. \u201cGood to see you again, Mara, how are you today?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut I\u2019m not the trainer!\u201d Amparo said. \u201cAnd I\u2019m the only other one on the floor!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn waved her off. \u201cIt\u2019s Wednesday night. It\u2019ll be dead. Plus, the best way to learn is trial by fire. Right, Mara?\u201d Mara wasn\u2019t so sure. The best way for her to learn was usually by meticulously shadowing a trainer for four training shifts, absorbing their knowledge, and then having stress dreams for her first two weeks of official serving shifts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah! I\u2019m game if you are, Amparo.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Amparo seemed to size Mara up and then said, \u201cAlright, but I\u2019m not paying for my shift meals for the whole week.\u201d Mart\u00edn gave her prayer hands. \u201cDeal! Thank you thank you!\u201d He grabbed a red translucent water cup, the kind that always reminded Mara of the Pizza Hut she went to as a little leaguer, and filled it with steaming hot black coffee. \u201cAlright ladies, or wait, zadies? Mara\u2014is it a she\/her vibe or\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Amparo laughed at his embarrassment. \u201cGet the fuck out of here, Mart\u00edn! And make sure Luis sets the cups out to dry. No one wants sani residue in their water.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay, okay. And no steaks for shift meals!\u201d Martin said as the kitchen doors swung closed behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDamn, I wanted the steak salad. Eh, Reggie will probably give me a half portion on a house salad if I put it in the notes. Hey, nothing personal,\u201d Amparo turned to Mara. \u201cI just don\u2019t like training! Ha! It\u2019s fine.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara was feeling off-balance. She was not ready to be thrown into a shift. She had prepared to take so many notes, to observe everything, but not to talk to customers. She didn\u2019t even know the menu. The electronic music she\u2019d been listening to on the way over, the calming waves of synth and steady pulsing drums\u2014she reached for it, but her senses were already being overloaded by the smell of cooking eggs or the sound of the drink machine or the ever-present call of \u201cBehind!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlright, so to start, I\u2019ll take whatever tables come in, and you study the menu. Once it starts picking up, I\u2019ll have you shadow me and run food. And if we get a rush\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara\u2019s anxiety must have shown on her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c\u2014well, we\u2019ll figure that out when it happens. It\u2019ll be fine. Trust me. This is not Trencherman or Girl & The Goat or anything. Dinner is mostly comfort food and burgers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara had never been to Olly\u2019s for dinner. Looking at the menu, it really was just comfort food and burgers, but it seemed like someone who really loved food had crafted these items. There were three burgers named after cities\u2014a touch that seemed to elevate the menu, but also connect it to diner tradition. An impressive mix of salads. Then the greatest hits of diner comfort food: fried chicken, pot roast, potato soup. They even had a lasagna that seemed legit. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The first wave of patrons had the air of regulars. Nearly all elderly. From the neighborhood. Only half of them even waited for Amparo to acknowledge them before shuffling to their preferred booth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlright, there\u2019s the Burkes\u2014he is grumpy as hell, but he owned a bunch of taverns back in the day, so he tips $20 every time even though they only ever share a tuna melt with a fruit cup. That there is Bobby\u2014he won\u2019t shut the fuck up, so you just have to walk away. And yeah, these over here are the near-dead who haunt us every shift.\u201d Amparo gestured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDo you need help?\u201d Mara asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNah, you just keep studying. And maybe Mart\u00edn here can help you practice.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn was refilling his cup. \u201cSure, it\u2019s not like I\u2019m running a restaurant here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re not running a restaurant, your employees are. You\u2019re just the manager.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDamn, prima.<\/em> Words sting. Now go take some orders.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn joined Mara at the folding table where the servers rolled silverware. He grabbed a menu and began to order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara had expected to be dismissed by eight. That was what Mart\u00edn and her had discussed. It was becoming more evident that an eight p.m. exit wouldn\u2019t be happening, with Michael calling out. Sorry, Deja<\/em>. Sorry, other Gradient Purple homies<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019d been about an hour of shadowing Amparo, who was not only a great teacher, but also a fixture at 90s punk shows. Getting pregnant \u201ctoo damn young\u201d\u2014her words\u2014ended her days in the scene, but the two bonded over records they liked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Eventually, Olly\u2019s got so busy that Mara was full-time food running. It was a good way to learn the menu, though, seeing every dish and having to check for every modification. All told, by the end of the night? She\u2019d taken five tables of her own, and seen every item on the menu except pot roast. Not a big summertime hit, even with the old-timers<\/em>, Amparo had said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn helped them close. Mara appreciated a manager who was willing to put some chairs up on tables and sweep, so she didn\u2019t mind doing her part. But she knew couldn\u2019t make it to Alewives in time for Gradient Purple. Could probably still catch WaveRace, though. Featuring Parth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou did really great tonight, Mara,\u201d Mart\u00edn told her while she was rolling silverware. \u201cSo glad you joined the team. How did you feel about things?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn had offered to grab some beers from the packaged goods\u2014just for your first shift, mija, not something we do all the time<\/em>\u2014but Mara declined. Amparo said Corona made her stomach hurt. So they were drinking Shirley Temples while they rolled the last of the silver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI feel like I killed it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Amparo laughed. \u201cYou really did. And I cannot believe that Greg and Chaz were your first table. They are the best.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook, I\u2019m really sorry we couldn\u2019t get you the show in time,\u201d Mart\u00edn said. \u201cWe really like to help each other out, but Michael really put us in a tough spot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s really no biggie,\u201d Mara said, and meant it. Amparo already felt like a friend and Mart\u00edn already felt like Gentle Work Dad. \u201cBesides, if I hurry up and finish all this I can make it to most of WaveRace97.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn grabbed the remaining cutlery and added it to his small pile. \u201cWe saw those guys at Edgewater Music Fest last year,\u201d he said. \u201cMy 11-year-old went loco for them. I\u2019ll do the rest. You get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was the kind of kindness Mara knew Mart\u00edn wouldn\u2019t expect to be paid back, but she made note of it. People helped each other here. \u201cThank you,\u201d she said, trying to muster as much sincere gratitude as her exhausted body and overstimulated mind could manage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara got lucky: caught a bus right out front of the diner, and was in the crush of the crowd 10 minutes later. Lights lit her eyes as the synth player from WaveRace rattled her ribcage with a saw. She smelled like frying oil and her heel had a blister, but the bus ride and kindness of Mart\u00edn and Amparo had energized her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It was hard to think that a murder had led her to a better job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She stood still in the crowd for a second, a briefly isolated buoy in a sea of dancers. She had stopped investigating the Lilypad murder, not that she could actually do<\/em> anything anyway<\/em>, but it felt somehow wrong to let an entire murder victim slide out of her mind because she had one good work day. If that person\u2014he had a name, John Miller was his name\u2014if John Miller had still been alive, Mara would be shuffling dead-eyed through a shift at Lilypad right now, bringing regular pancakes to Lakeview residents who would nonetheless claim to be celiac suffers, pouring bottomless mimosas for DePaul students on Sundays.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There was nothing to do about that, though. A murder had happened, the universe had written that into its history. One ripple effect was that this job at Olly\u2019s seemed like it was going to be great. She liked the people she worked with and the job itself felt honest. Punk rock in a way that she appreciated. And the $140 in cash in her pocket wasn\u2019t so bad either.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Mara didn\u2019t typically listen to electronic music. Today, though, some tones and textures and moods felt appropriate. 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