I Tipped An Exhausted Waitress One Hundred Dollars Until I Found Something In My Takeout Box

briefly, and said, “Thank you. For last week.”

“Of course,” I said.

She went to take the order to the kitchen.

I sat in the dim warm room and looked at the menu I already knew and thought about the note: I can’t do this anymore. Said not as a defeat but as a declaration. The ending of a way of doing things. The beginning of whatever comes after.

I can.continue reading …