In American Busboy, a wry anti-mythology, the anti-hero busboy in an
anonymous Clam Shack! tangles with the monotonous delirium of work, the
indignities and poor pay of unskilled labor, the capricious deus ex
machina of mean-spirited middle management, the zombified consumption of
summer tourists, while jostling for the goddess-like attentions of
waitresses and hostesses-all battered up in sizzlingly crisp wit and
language, and deep-fried in a shiny glaze of surrealism. -Lee Ann
Roripaugh