Go with Grace
At a small café in San Francisco’s Mission District, wedged between a taqueria and dry cleaner, Grace has been serving eggs and hash browns and coffee for about a hundred years.
She stands at five-feet-four, minus a couple inches for her perpetual stoop. When she walks, she never lifts her feet off the floor. It’s more a sleep-walker’s shuffle—a mix between indifference and the result of a stout, squat body that no longer wants to move. (more…)