Anyone who ever waited tables in the right restaurant in Tampa or elsewhere might tell you about the multitudes of immigrant bus-staffers from Venezuela, Columbia, Mexico, even Cuba. They don't speak a lick of English; they work and quit and are sometimes fired with the resilience and presence of teeth in a shark's mouth--another would always be waiting, and willing to work for what they made, which was next to nothing.
I can't count the number of times I brought a customer's half eaten meal back to one of multiple, dispensible immigrant dishwashers, where, as in the case of a picked-over hamburger, one would ask me not to dump the plate then devour the rest of the burger shamelessly.
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