It’s been nine months since the COVID-19 pandemic first shut down New York City hospitality industry. In that time, it’s gestated a monstrous stillbirth: a second indoor dining ban that has annihilated an entire reticulate of restaurants, bars, and service workers. Oft-forgotten (or blatantly disregarded) is the personality of such service, the who on the other side of your dining experience. So easy it has been to rush through an atmosphere and an evening when there were other places to be; ever so simple was it to book reservations for somewhere new and not look back. But what one neglects in these hurried instances is a labyrinth of queer, femme, and other marginalized workers who rely on the immediate and accessible nature of restaurants. Restaurants employ the thinkers, the innovators. We must unite to preserve its true greatness — its anarchy.