I was working as a short-order cook at two restaurants in the same neighborhood. On a Saturday night, I was finishing up the dinner shift at one restaurant and hurrying to report to work at the second place, but I was delayed because one table kept sending back an order of hash browns, insisting they were cold. I replaced them several times, but still the customers were dissatisfied.

When I was able to leave, I raced out the door and arrived at my second job. A server immediately handed me my first order.

"Make sure these hash browns are hot," she said, "because these people just left a restaurant down the street that kept serving them cold ones."