I worked in services jobs from age 15 until 24. More than just making extra pocket money, I depended on these positions to support myself and my family. I was a busboy-cum-waiter at the Organ Grinder – a pizza eatery featuring a large theatre organ in Toronto (that closed in November 1996) -- from grade nine through first-year university (age 15 to 21). I bounced around five high schools and had multiple run-ins with the law as a teenager. The Organ Grinder was my anchor of stability. I grew up relatively deprived. The Organ Grinder was my window into middle-class culture. I learned to jive to the Chicken Dance and the YMCA songs to the music of the organ there. I also served thousands of birthday cakes to guests – the restaurant was a popular destination for kids’ birthday parties – even as I had never feted my own birthday. I worked many hours at the Organ Grinder, to the point that I still know the computer codes for the menu items, and I still get dreams / nightmares about working there. It was a loud and busy environment where strong bonds and lasting memories with colleagues were forged. And…
