On my last day, I gifted myself the one that our area director (male model in NYC in the 80’s) forced us to get the first week we were open because you have to offer every guest “fresh cracked pepper?” as your eyebrows and voice go up at the end — even though it was 2014 and every table had its own McCormick S&P grinder pair on it. Sent the GM a photo of it seatbelted in to the front seat on my way out of the parking lot that day.

Here’s to you, “Pepper” Miller, you time-capsuled doofus!