ARMEN: BIG BOY RESTAURANT

My son and I were in Bob's Big Boy restaurant in Burbank, near Los Angeles, a place that's been there for over sixty years, and is a hangout for everyone, including movie people and lots of non-movie people.  

We go once a week and have a favorite server named Armen.  When we arrive, and it's
crowded, we ask to wait for his table.  When he was told we were waiting for an open table with Armen, he came over to us, and apologized for not having a table available.
"We will wait for a table of yours to open up." 
"No, no," he said, "I don't want you to wait 20 minutes."

We insisted we wanted to be with him, and waiting was just fine.  "No, no, I can't have you do that," he insisted in a voice of caring.  "I feel guilty keeping you waiting."

Minutes later, he returned to tell us he had asked another server to turn one of his tables over to Armen so we could sit right away, and he could serve us.

We took the table, sat down, and Armen came over, during the crowded lunch time, remembered our order exactly (well scrambled eggs and hash browns with fruit), from a week ago, and with tears in his eyes, said, "Thank you.  You guys mean so much to me."  In the midst of lunch time crowd, we held hands.  He had tears.  He knew he mattered to us more to us as a person, more than the timing.   We had just met Armen the week 
before, just one time.  The food was secondary to us.  The relationship with Armen was primary.