We first met Tory at the Cambridge Diner; she was one of the best waitresses we’ve encountered yet.

Small restaurants in small towns need help; it’s a challenging enterprise. So many people come and go, and we meet people we like and lose them in a snap. In a small town, you always find them again if you wait. It was very nice to see her again; any worries I had about a new place vanished.

Today, defeated by the loss of two of the best pizza makers in town, we headed out for lunch. The town diner was closed today, so we went to Clark’s Pizza on Main Street. It’s been around for a while but has recently changed hands. It shows.

We heard Tory was now working and that the restaurant made great wraps, sandwiches, and pizza. We want to go wherever Tory is. On top of everything else, she has a wild sense of humor, and her laugh would get the donkeys running for cover.

 

Tory has the welcoming and attention gift of a professional waitress; she greets everyone, seats everyone, and always seems to be doing the thing she most wants to do. She has a lot of personality. She says hello, remembers names, checks on food, and never loses her temper or her calm. She even brings the check without being asked.

And the rumors were correct; the wraps she told us about were great.

As hard as she works – and she works hard – she always acts as if she is delighted to see you. I think she is. She runs back and forth like a squirrel, and you can see the exhaustion on her face, but she would consider it unprofessional to admit it. She’s going on my portrait list.

Restaurants are important to us. We both work at home and often need to get out for fresh air and a change of scenery.

Maria had a turkey wrap, and I had an excellent chicken Quesadilla —much better than the one I ate at a Mexican restaurant in town that just joined the list of restaurant casualties. Tory’s new house had been remodeled and was comfortable and clean. We were happy to meet her again and discover a restaurant that would stay. Like every restaurant in town, loud giant wall screens offer news and sports.

If you like going out to eat her, bring airplugs. Tory’s voice is more vital than all of them. We know nothing about her, and that will probably stay that way. It’s optional. She says, “You got it, ” no matter what you order,” like we had just won the lottery. Perhaps we have. As a bonus, she gets my warped sense of humor and throws it right back.

Tory remembers us; she welcomed us like long-lost relatives and ran us through the menu (this is a new version of  the restaurant that changed hands a couple of times. Once again, she made us feel welcome, ensured we ordered the right thing, checked on to see if it was as expected, and then told us the story of her last few months, filling in the blanks.

She was full of smiles and had a booming foghorn voice. We were glad to see her and happy to find another suitable place in town to eat lunch. In a small town, this is not a small thing.

I realized I needed to include the story in my people-I-like campaign and returned with my monochrome. “Can I take your picture?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“I’m going to put you on my blog if that’s ok.”

“I know,” she said, laughing and wiping down the counters. I told Maria that Tory acted as if I’d done this before.

“You did,” she said, “when she was working at the diner.