At 1:30 a.m., Annie Spoonire awakens in her Millersville home.
Two hours later, she is pointing her 1990 aqua-and-silver Plymouth through the morning darkness toward the popular Bel-Loc Diner in Towson, where she will dispense hot coffee and hard-earned wisdom from her counter pulpit.
On this particular morning, she is on a familiar mission. She has to make coffee, fill the salt shakers, squeeze the oranges for juice, wipe down the counters and booths. When the diner opens at 6 a.m. -- pot of decaf in one hand, jet fuel in the other -- she greets the sleepy-eyed customers in a profession some believe attracts the most tireless and least appreciated working women.
For 45 years she's been doing this, first at the Run Inn in Waverly, and for the last 23 at this Baltimore-area landmark, where the omelets are criminally huge, the cherry and French apple pies are baked in the kitchen and a ton of potatoes are peeled every week for the home fries.
"You really have to like people in this job," the 66-year-old great-grandmother said during a lull in her long day. "And I like people."
She says that a high tolerance for low tippers and excellent balance for carrying several plates of food simultaneously are important job requirements.
"You can't do multiple plates if there's gravy dishes," she said, "but generally, I can carry eight meals at a time ... yup, takes lots of coordination and these strong arms. "
Throughout her career, Spoonire has viewed her job like a joyous carousel ride, witnessing the human condition at its best and worst, at its sleepiest and most demanding. And brightening inside when someone voices their appreciation.
"The beautiful thing about Annie is she can see me on the parking lot and she'll have my coffee waiting at my table," said Smokey Holmes of Hillendale, who drove a tractor-trailer across America for 20 years and visits the Bel-Loc up to 20 times a week. "And she and the other waitresses will leave me alone while I do my crossword puzzle. The true mark of a great waitress is when to bring the coffee and when to leave you alone. They have it down pat here."
Another unwavering fan of the Bel-Loc and the women who work there is Ed Bromwell, a subcontractor from Phoenix.
"I've been coming here for 40 years and these waitresses don't miss a beat," said Bromwell. "They know customers by their first names. The Bel-Loc is an institution, but so are the waitresses."
Waitresses are important American figures. Hollywood and television made them central characters in countless classics. Mystery writer Raymond Chandler couldn't finish a book without introducing a waitress. And many former college students recall having worked tables in some far-off greasy spoon, an experience perhaps more illuminating than Philosophy 101.
For most, waitressing jobs were stops along the way. Spoonire and others have raised waitressing to an art.
"You have to be clean first," she said, listing the litany of fresh starched white uniform, white soft-soled shoes and a little yellow ribbon on her lapel "for the troops."
"But it really helps to develop a sense of humor because you see all kinds, from the people out at night after clubbing to the grouches at 6 a.m.," she said. "And once you understand how they tick, you understand you can be courteous to all of 'em."
The Bel-Loc, at Loch Raven Boulevard and Joppa Road, is a perfect stage for Spoonire and her sister waitresses, some of whom have worked there for decades. The mother, sister and daughter of Sheila Rice, the head waitress, have all worked at the diner, which drips with 1950s nostalgia; Linda Dawson, another longtime server, saw her three daughters and mother serve meatloaf platters or pancakes at the Bel-Loc.
The past is well-served at the Bel-Loc, from the gleaming Royal Dunloggin Farm Dairy milk machine -- the Baltimore dairy closed nearly 40 years ago -- to the three Hamilton Beach mixers. There are the red-and-blue neon signs and the black-and-white checkered tiles that decorate the restaurant.
On weekends -- when the diner shifts into round-the-clock service -- the place is usually packed, and business is steady throughout the week.
"That says that maybe we are doing something right," said owner Bill Doxanas, who has operated the Bel-Loc since it opened in 1964. His family has been involved in ownership of the Double T diner chain in the Baltimore area.
"Annie cares about the place and our customers," said Doxanas, who makes the soups and rice pudding from scratch. "She's basically a good person, and that's not easy, dealing with the public sometimes."
These days, Spoonire works three 12-hour days a week. Sounding like a veteran professional athlete, she says, "I got arthroscopic knee surgery a few years ago because the constant time on our feet makes physical demands that are sometimes difficult. It's nice having to work only three days a week."
As a young woman, she hustled counters and tables at two small local eateries. She then started working at the Run Inn at 34th Street and Greenmount Avenue, a busy place that was located at a bus stop and just down from 33rd Street and Memorial Stadium -- a convenient stop for the Orioles and Colts who played and practiced there.
"They had great breakfasts there, and the waitresses were terrific," remembered Tom Matte, a former Colts running back and now a radio announcer for Ravens games. "The players, while we were treated like gods in Baltimore, always respected the waitresses there and tried to give them generous tips."
Spoonire left the Run Inn after 22 years and signed on at the Bel-Loc.
She has been married and widowed twice. Her daughter, Linda, started to pursue a nursing career but decided to follow in her mother's footsteps and now works at an upscale dining spot in Ocean City.
"She saw the light," Spoonire said, flashing a knowing grin.
