It was after closing time when the guest walked in.

I was cleaning up the dining room, resetting the tables, wiping down the line, emptying the trash cans. The kitchen was already cleaned, the grill turned off for the night. We were all about to head home.

“Can I help you?” I asked, though I knew I probably couldn’t. Unless he needed to make a phone call or use the restroom, there’s not much that a server can offer after the restaurant’s already closed.

“I’m here to pick up a to-go order,” he said.

The long stainless steel counter by the kitchen was empty, the heat lamps turned off. No to-go orders sitting in the window. I looked at the bartender.

She shrugged.

[ continue reading at A Deeper Story ]