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The best stretch of my working life is a period I remember fondly as "Sundays with Jennifer," six months or so in college when I was waiting tables alongside my favorite coworker, named — you guessed it — Jennifer. We spent our shifts chatting and screwing around, treating patrons as little more than an interruption in our weekly hang. We spent weeks planning a "cake party" for our other work friends. One day she brought in weed cookies and one of our coworkers got so high they couldn't figure out how to get out of the bathroom. I do not know if our customers enjoyed the Em-Jen experience, let alone our employer, but we did.