9.14.09 | Panic. My Thursday restaurant is crowded. Again. All summer it was wide open. I’d stop by any time between eleven-thirty and one o’clock and glide right up to a vacant two-seater. Sometimes a four-seater. Becoming a regular I had risen above standing and trying to appear nonchalant as I tried to catch the eye of the smiling server (who, I think, had once been a waitress) so she would gesture me to a seat at a table.

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