Depending what part of the sign was working at any given time, the sign at the Nick's Beef and Beer House restaurant would read: Nick's eef and eer House or some combination of unlit letters.

Nick's was known for its $2.00 pitchers of beer and serving it in plastic cups. The artery clogging food was cheap, plentiful, and good. The hamburgers with fries sold for $3.95, and $4.95 would get you a full turkey dinner.

Situated between Harvard Square, Cambridge and the Somerville line in Massachusetts, Nick's was a popular and busy restaurant known for its shabby chic red and black decor with a fake fireplace with multi-colored logs.

The qualifications to work as a waitress were that you had to be older, sassy and have a sharp tongue. These quick witted and mature servers were popular with the regular clientele. If a customer kept delaying ordering, instead of being asked, "Are you ready to order;" A customer would be told, "to hurry up and make up your mind."
Whether you were a cab driver or a Harvard University professor, made no difference to these quick tongue waitresses. They were not impressed with title or prominence.

My sister Rose, having worked at the restaurant for 15 years, got me a job at Nick's after I was laid off. Having seen Rose carry four dinners on a tray, admittedly, I was nervous. I could not carry a glass of water without spilling it. The first day, however, I would just be bussing, that is, clearing and cleaning tables, and doing small chores.
The pace of the restaurant was like a racing speedway.
"Mareeeee"
I do not know how many times that day, I heard my name Mary being screamed over the entire restaurant floor by Rose pointing to my next table to clear. Every time, I turned around, Rose was right behind me ordering me to go in one direction or another.
A ping pong ball saw less action than I did going back and forth at Rose's direction.

If Rose was not instructing me, Madelyn had me sweeping under the tables. She was the oldest of the waitresses.
Probably closer to 70 if she was a day. White haired, short, and heavy, Madelyn wore heavy knee-high nylons and white working shoes. The black apron tied in back defined her waist. Her oversized round glasses were held in place around her neck by a chain.

When a customer asked for their check, Madelyn was quick to oblige them with a little more than they expected.
"Move over, my feet are killing me." She would announce, as she sat down at the customer's table to tally their check. No one ever objected when she sat down, either out of surprise or amusement. The regulars, however, looked forward to her sitting down at their table. They saw it as a chance to have a chat or catch up with neighborhood news.

My work at Nick's only lasted a day as I got the job I interviewed for, and I was able to go back to a desk job.

I did learn from my experience at Nick's.
The first is that I have lead feet. I was the tortoise rather than the hare and not fast enough to last long in a restaurant.
The second is that waitressing is hard work.
However, the most important lesson, I saw in these ladies what the regulars knew all along. They were what they called: "The salt of the earth." These senior waitresses were warm, honest, and big-hearted women who would greet their regulars by name, and they would give someone a meal if they came to the door in need.