The chalk bowl at the end of the rack has a handprint in it that is not mine.
Somebody was here at six, did their sets, put the plates away and went home,
and I do not know their name, and this building is the one place on earth
where I always know the name.

For two years I would have called that a sad way to train.
It is the only handwriting in here I have ever envied.

The Book of the Bard — Grind 52:8