Service - John Tottenham

A grimy, deadpan descent into the underbelly of Los Angeles, Service follows a middle-aged waiter drifting through a life of low wages, casual humiliation, and the slow erosion of dignity. The restaurants blur together into a kind of fluorescent purgatory, where every shift feels the same and every customer interaction carries a quiet sting. Tottenham writes with a brutally dry wit, turning the routines of service work into something bleakly comic and painfully familiar.

Through this haze of repetition and resentment, John Tottenham crafts a portrait of alienation that’s both specific and universal. The narrator isn’t chasing redemption or escape, just enduring, observing, and occasionally snapping in small, human ways. It’s a novel that lingers in the awkward silences and petty indignities, capturing the feeling of being stuck in a life that keeps refilling your glass just enough so you never quite leave.