Every now and then, you meet "one of those guys."



As in dedicated. Loyal. True-blue.



His name is Nime Saab, and he works at Brann's Steakhouse and Sports Grille on Leonard Street NW.



Aside from being completely gracious to the point of beguiling, get this: In 32 years of washing dishes and swabbing floors and prepping salads and stocking shelves, he's never missed a single day of work.



If you do the math, accounting for a couple week's vacation yearly and workweeks stretched to six days, you're talking nearly 10,000 consecutive days without a miss. Ten. Thousand. Days.



And with all due respect to the Brann family, working behind the scenes in any commercial kitchen ain't exactly champagne and big cigars.



There's heavy lifting and scalding water and working at close quarters and having to touch other people's food and tableware; it's beyond the grasp of most.



But there's Nime, smiling, laughing, shrugging his shoulders in answer to "What does your name mean?" and telling you in the next breath he has no intention of looking into it.



Johnny Brann, son of the founder John "Senior," shakes his head, then locks gazes with Nime, and they both break out in profound laughter.



When they finally catch their breath, Johnny says, "He makes everybody's day brighter."



Which is not what you might expect from someone who in some regards waved goodbye to his parents when he was just a sophomore at Comstock Park High School, and was largely left to fend for himself.



The Saabs were separating, and moving literally in different directions, but Nime didn't want to leave the area. He already was spending time at the VanBennekom household, where he'd made friends with Panthers classmate Chris VanBennekom.



The year was 1981, Nime's sophomore year, and the same year Nime began working for what then was a Brann's restaurant on Alpine Avenue NE, within walking distance of the home the VanBennekoms kept in the Westgate development, just a mile off.



Thirty-two years later, he's still living there, although Chris and his three siblings – and their father – have moved on.



Now, it's just the matriarch, Carol VanBennekom, who's in her late 60s, and Nime, who's 49.



"It's always been kind of a family joke," says Carol. "Chris brought him home from school one day, and he just never left."



Turning serious, she emphasizes how much she now leans on him: "He mows the lawn, shovels the snow, helps with the groceries. He's just a really nice, thoughtful person. I don't know what I'd do without him."



Nime has a few known relatives, but they're scattered across the U.S. No problem. He just counts his Brann's workmates as kin, especially Johnny and wife Sandy.



"Nime will, out of nowhere, bring Sandy a stuffed animal," says Johnny. "She just thinks the world of him. We both do. We all do."



Nime is slow to make new friends, in part due to speech challenges, which include a mild stutter. "I-I-I had sp-speech therapy for 14 years."



Johnny is his best coach. "Just slow down, Nime. It's OK. Take your time." Nime draws a breath. Smiles. Then continues.



"I was born New York City. I moved to Colombia (the country) when I was in first grade. I was there three years."



He moved back to the U.S. and eventually settled in Comstock Park, where he enrolled at the high school there and tried his hand at football.



"What position?" I ask.



"Mostly bench."



Johnny roars, then asks Nime to recount his short-lived boxing career.



"Three fights," says Nime. "Three losses." He starts to giggle. "The third fight, I just went over and sat down in my corner. Three seconds. I'd had enough."



Johnny is falling out of his chair.



Nime's interests and pastimes are simplistic.



He collects action figures, Star Wars memorabilia and comic books.



"It's like a Toys R Us," he says of his bedroom.



He drives a '91 Ford station wagon, but rarely, and when he does, hardly ever on the highway.



He doesn't drink, use tobacco or swear. He's never owned a mobile phone. And if he isn't eating at Brann's, he loves the meatloaf at Russ'.



His loves are few, but profound: Mrs. VanBennekom, for one. And the Branns.



"I love you and Sandy" he tells Johnny.



"We love you, too, Nime."