The Bold Italic
Working Three Jobs Nearly Killed Me
but it made me fall in love with San Francisco
by Lavinia Spalding (google+)One Sunday evening, I ran up and down the stairs of Zuni Café for six straight hours, delivering roasted chickens to guests who thought it was hilariously original to point to their empty plates and say, “I hated it.” Upstairs, Clive Owen devoured two plates of gigante beans. Downstairs, Yo Yo Ma asked for appetizer recommendations. I left sometime after midnight, exhausted, with $200 in my pocket. When I got home, I rode the elevator up to my apartment and collapsed.
But at 6 a.m. my phone rang.
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To the one who was supposed to get away
