Working at Madcaps in the summer of '84 was the perfect job for me. I needed to pay rent and keep my TR-6 on the road so I could take off to Muskoka weekends. Perfect! I had the lunch shift and worked the 30 seat room pretty much by myself. I'd roll in around 10:30 to accept the Future bread delivery. That would be breakfast; still warm from the oven rye bread with butter and cheese and a cappuccino.

Gorgeous sophisticated Ann would be setting up the bar while blasting Eddy Grant's Electric Avenue…every day…all summer. Just being around her gave me something to strive for and set a pretty high bar for my aspirations. Leaping Lazlo the head chef would be back in the kitchen getting veggies chopped and making his pepper sauce and all the garnishes he'd require over a pretty intense hour and a half lunch rush. My roomie Jamie who was Lazlo's assistant (and soon to replace him) would arrive late and generally hung over but always bubbly and of good humour.

We were on Queen West at the foot of Beverly St. and in the thick of everything that turned me on about TO. The Bamboo and Horseshoe were steps away as was the Riv and the Cameron House where my saved tips went to the Handsome Neds on Friday nights and later, Saturday afternoons.

We had our regulars. One guy, Teddy, a broker would come in early for martinis ahead of lunch every day. Late 20's well dressed and worth more than Jamie and me x100; he was ok. One day as he was sitting by the front window he yelped and ran out of the bar returning quite frantic: that was Conrad Black that just walked by! I had seen the old dude he was referring to and certainly knew the name: rich guy. The next day when Teddy came in he was sporting the exact same Aquascutum trench coat he'd seen on Black.

I liked doing lunches because you had to get the food out quick so I didn't have to entertain just be efficient. The lunch rush would go by fast leaving me with a pocket full of money and the best part of the afternoon open for an early Muskoka run or bar hopping ahead of a night out seeing Chalk Circle or Parachute Club at the Cabana, the Ned's or if I was lucky Pukka Orchestra at Grossman's.

Lazlo liked to go out back and smoke a joint when he'd finished the last table's orders. I'd be in a hurry to get those delivered so I could join him. That's how I dumped Gord Martineau's and Andrea Martin's lunch all over them. I was rushing down the 3 stairs between the kitchen and the dining room and stumbled. Gord ended up wearing a bit of Lazlo's famous pepper sauce and he was not pleased: Andrea neither which was weird because we watched her every night on SCTV and she was always a laugh riot.

Lazlo was flaming mad when I rushed back grabbed the joint and told him what I'd done. Now he had to go back in front of the hot grill and do it all over again. That's when I saw the leaping part of Leaping Lazlo. His temper went through the roof. Of course I later learned that chefs were more often hot heads than mellow fellows but just then it was a revelation.

Apologies made, lunch comped and Andrea and Gord gone we'd all sit down and eat before wrapping up our chores for the day. Later, between day drinking and music filled late nights Jamie would come home to our Regent Park apt with a brisket or sausages from Madcaps and that'd be our dinner. So, come in late-ish, out early-ish and all meals taken care of, perfect! Tip money for nights out and every 2 weeks we'd get a check for the hours we worked. Minimum wage at most, 2 weeks pay would cover rent and bills and the other 2 weeks could go towards clothes, trips or whatever.

Around this time my dad, alarmed by how I was wasting my university arts/literature education, arranged an interview for a clerk's job at a CP satellite office in Scarborough. I hardly had the clothes to present in but borrowed Jamie's shoes and wearing a hand me down shirt from my uncle Nino and my best waitering pants (an oxymoron for sure) took a street car to a bus to the underground, changed trains a couple times and walked for 20 minutes through a barren wasteland to a recently and cheaply made office building. There a guy 10 years older than me who had lost all hope many years ago and was dressed only marginally better than I was interviewed me for a job that would take up 40 precious hours a week plus at least 15 more commuting and paid maybe 2/3rds what I was making having a blast at Madcaps. I actually considered taking it. I could start at the bottom but maybe in 10 years I could be a senior clerk! I didn't have the 1st idea of what they were doing there but here was an opportunity.

Sense prevailed and I weathered my dad's volcanic reaction to keeping my waitering job. Another notch down in his estimation. Ouch! There were many more to go.

Well I'd just double down and try harder! There was quite a bit of turnover at Madcaps and now Jamie was head chef and I was signing up for as many shifts as I could get. I was doing lunch and dinner 5 days a week but still keeping my weekends open for Lake Rosseau. Jamie was thrown into the fire and was doing pretty well with the menu and igniting a lifelong passion for cooking. We were working hard towards a goal of not being a pay check away from homeless and things were looking up! I negotiated a raise to $5 an hour which was a 40% increase and felt like real money. I was a little taken aback by Wendy's reaction to her husband when Nick caved to my demand. She said you're an asshole Nick! Man I thought she was on my side. Turns out she was. And she was right about Nick.

Because of Jamie's promotion and my wage increase we were told that we'd now be paid once a month. No prob! We paid rent once a month and could live on my tips and the pilfered food Jamie brought home and we'd be golden when pay day came! Well that turned out to be a sad day. For once Jamie and I arrived at work together and early to get our checks into the bank so our rent wouldn't bounce. There was a sign on the locked door I can still remember: gone fishing! Due to the insatiable greed of the TD Bank, Madcaps is closed. Thanks for your patronage, Nick and Wendy.

So that's how we got on welfare.