Member-only story
The flying waiter lived in my neighborhood
I was enamored of his style.
It was why they gave him a whale of a hug.
He wore a heart of gold.
It was his gift. And his curse, too.
Charles “Charlie” Besse had a unique knack for tying pleasure to business as a waiter.
How diners bonded with Miami’s Haitian waiter
Whenever Besse worked their tables, diners had a whale of a good time. He was service on speed-dial. His whole life since he came to America from Haiti decades ago to double shift on his modest dreams was one uninterrupted service, to people he never really knew, but always cared for.
People like five-year-old and 85-year-old who bonded with him. People for whom, in all the comings and goings, Besse was a permanent fixture, a laugh that froze only when the lights dimmed.
And personalities and moods didn’t matter.
Coloring the dark mood of Besse’s diner faces
On his shift, people ate at the restaurant because it was better than eating anywere else. If their mood was dark, Besse would notice the pallor and it didn’t take long for him to restore the color in their faces.
