KATIE JORDON Waitress I see the same labourers every morning on my wayto work, they use yellow gloves that remind me of something other than yellow gloves. I want to say canaries,but there is nothing sweet or wild about them. I wear black and carry plates, glasses — full or blanked —for most of the day. An occasional, strange hand placed on my hip, the small of my back; their coins in my apron sing