Four kids, three houses, eight cars, and three colleges ago, I was a waitress at Denny’s. Many a Grand Slam breakfasts and chicken fried steak paid for community college. Whenever a posse of older women came, the wait staff would immediately hide in the kitchen, no one wanting that table. Chimes of “not me, not me, not me” rang out like seagulls finding fries at the beach, and with good