At one of my first restaurant jobs there was an ex-con who did odd jobs around the place. One day he mysteriously turned up in an office that required a key because of all the money kept there. He asked the manager a question and left. I didn't think anything about it at the time, but later on as I was closing up I went back to the office and there he was, crouching under the desk. When he stood up he had both of the deposit envelopes in his hands. I said, "Give those to me!" and he took a swing at me but missed. I freaked out--I thought he might have a knife or a gun--and in that second he ran past me and got away with probably $2,000 or more. No one ever heard from him again. Fast-forward nine years. I was walking in here for dinner one night when a guy walked out past me. My eyes met his, and it was clear we both recognized each other, though we couldn't remember from where. He said, "Hello, how are you doing?" and I said, "Good to see you again." Once inside it was driving me crazy--I knew I knew who he was. But by the time I realized that the guy was the thief an hour had gone by, and no one here knew his name or remembered him.
--Victor Anthony, interior designer