In my early twenties, I worked at a severely mismanaged pub that hosted intimate concerts, like NPR Tiny Desk Concerts if the room was dimly-lit and smelly. Whenever a popular act played the pub and reservations sold out, the kitchen got busy, and several servers would abandon their sections to storm the kitchen and start chipping in to assemble their regulars’ orders. It drove me up the wall, partly because I lost out on tips as a new employee who didn’t know how their “system” worked, and part