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I wake on Tuesday morning to the sound of a buzz saw coming from right outside my bedroom window. For a week now my alarm call has been a construction team that my next-door neighbors have hired to build an enormous extension to their backyard wooden deck. Rising from bed and shaking off sleep, the sounds of the electric saw sends tremors racing through my ear. I head into the bathroom where the muffled outside noise goes head to head with the vibrations from my battery-operated toothbrush. At 8 o’clock I arrive at a French restaurant called Zazie where I work. I’m the lone waiter pulling chairs and tables into their correct position in the dining area while the café’s kitchen staff is busy preparing food for the day while listening to Top 40 radio blaring from one lone speaker. In the kitchen several dozen eggs are cracked and whisked in a pot with Tabasco to make a rich and spicy hollandaise. Nearby sits a mound of crispy precooked bacon. Steam rises from giant kettles of boiling potatoes that will soon be cut into home fries, all prepped for another busy day of brunch. |
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