»In which we are out of sight in the night, out of sight in the day

Just before sitting down to a drink at a sidewalk café along the Embarcadero, I found myself wondering about which jobs society deems "tip-worthy" and how restaurants, especially, are able to regularly under-pay their staff because of the collective anticipation of tips. 10%? 12% 20%? A sawbuck on top of a benjamin? Tip on the cost of drinks, or $1 per, plus the percentage of the food? How does it work? Why ca'n't restaurants around here pay a living wage, and not force the ignominy of a tip jar on every coffee-shop counter from the Haight to Potrero?

"Excuse me, I didn't realise you had a degree in medicine. Are you a doctor? Are you a doctor? Answer me, please. Are you a doctor? Okay, then you admit you do'n't know what you're talking about." This is such a great movie. I saw it by myself at the Pittsburgh Playhouse in autumn of '92.