Lisa and her husband owned a restaurant/nightclub in my
neighborhood; I’d first wandered in there shortly after they’d
opened the place, and I soon became a “regular.” Regular enough
that, on occasion when the Maitre d’ hadn’t arrived, Lisa would
ask me help out, seating guests, etc. Or Stan, her husband, might
ask me if I’d run out to a supermarket when the kitchen suddenly
found they’d run out of some vital item. I sometimes helped them
close up, or on a slow night, might help out in the office, running
spreadsheets, or laying out a menu or promotional mailing (I was
far more computer-literate than they, and a far better editor,
although Lisa was trained as a graphic artist.) In fact, it was
that sort of collaboration that probably led to our first
flirtation.