Every morning at 6 a.m., the "Sheriff" (Marshall once worked as a constable) saunters into the Tasty and shouts out his order, "The usual!"

A cup of coffee and a slice of toast--unbuttered--has been Marshall's usual for the past 27 years.

The toast is left unbuttered during his occasional diets.

"The Tasty was the first place I visited in the Square," remembers Marshall. "It's got local character and color and greasy hamburgers. What else can you ask for?"

"You get everything from hippies to punk rockers to police officers to mentally challenged people," Marshall says, jerking his thumb to a buddy standing against the wall.

Behind the man is a world map from the 1960s with hundreds of pins stuck into every corner of the globe. Representing the home towns of the Tasty's many patrons, the pins are scattered across the map from Sacramento to Singapore to Sydney.

The man standing against the wall is Jeremiah Johnson, a 50-year-old street person who has been frequenting the Tasty for 37 years.

As a youngster, Johnson used to sneak out of his house to grab a bite at the Tasty. "My parents wouldn't let me go to the Tasty," he recounts. "They wanted me to be a good Christian boy, a Catholic priest perhaps."

"I discovered the Tasty and it dawned on them that there was no way in hell I was going to the priest-hood."

Stroking his full grey beard, Johnson says wistfully, "I'm going to miss the camaraderie."

Losing a Job

Don Valcovic is going to miss his job. After working the stainless steel grill at the Tasty for over 10 years, Valcovic says he doesn't know what he'll do in the future.

"This has been one of the most rewarding jobs I've ever had--spiritually and intellectually," Valcovic says above the drone of National Public Radio's newscast.

"This place is the pulsating heart of Harvard Square."

It is also a place where drunks can sober up with a hot cup of coffee or even urinate on the floor like Johnson once did, Valcovic recalls.