My father died during my freshman year in college. I struggled to scholastically hold on but, eventually, I realized I just had to let go of that collegiate dream, if only to keep myself alive. I worked many jobs during that era—mostly video stores and movie theaters—but one job I’ll never forget is that six or seven months I spent working at Sushi Neko, 4318 N. Western Ave.
There’s no way around it, so I’ll just say it: I was a dishwasher. Sure, it wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it paid the bills and, now that I think about it, was probably one of the best minimum wage jobs I ever held, but that was mostly due to the unwritten perks of the gig...