By the way, my piano-playing partner at the West Covina Shakey's was Ben Sands, father of Tommy Sands. No cheese there - he was a class act and a fun guy to work with.
Here's another story from my pizza days. One day I got a call from the union to fill in at another Shakey's way out in east LA somewhere. With my banjo strapped to my back I puttered for over an hour on my Honda 50 on surface streets (couldn't drive that thing on the freeway) and finally arrived to find that the gig had been double-booked. I suggested a coin toss to decide which one of us would play, but the manager made the decision based on the length of my hair. So it was another hour+ back to West LA with no money in my pocket. I tried to file a grievance with the union but they just told me to cut my hair. According to today's standards I should've had a case for discrimination.