I seem to have been born without the business gene. Unlike a lot of my peers, I was less concerned about making an extra tip or two than I was about getting home. Years later, I took a job waiting tables, where we’d have people show up a few minutes before closing time for late night noshing or perhaps a scrumptious dessert. As I tried to get things straightened up for the end of the day, they would leisurely shop for pleated pants and matching sweaters, oblivious to my desire to call it a night. Invariably, people would show up a few minutes before closing time to do their shopping. One job I had was working at a men’s clothing outlet, where I usually worked until closing time. When I was younger, I had a series of jobs that required me to work evenings. Time to go home? Songs that signal closing time are meant to get people to get up– and get OUT– into the world…
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