I was working as a short-order cook at two restaurants in the same
neighborhood. On a Saturday night, I was finishing up the dinner shift
at one restaurant and hurrying to report to work at the second place,
but I was delayed because one table kept sending back an order of hash
browns, insisting they were cold. I replaced them several times, but
still the customers were dissatisfied.
When I was able to leave, I raced out the door and arrived at my second job. A server immediately handed me my first order.
"Make
sure these hash browns are hot," she said, "because these people just
left a restaurant down the street that kept serving them cold ones."
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