Sweetgum leaf

I think of the workers in my old shoes, chasing tips in their own raggedy, espresso-covered flip-flops, either exposed to a potentially infectious public all day long or laid off and frantic about where the rent is going to come from. I think about how little agency they have and ponder the line between indignity, being brought low, and humility, an extraordinary virtue. I say a prayer for their security, and put on a pot of coffee.

Kathryn Watson recalls the daily indignities of working for tips.