Stepping inside the guest check factory in St. Paul felt like walking into a living archive of American industry, where the rhythm of old presses, the smell of ink, and the constant hum of machinery create a world that hasn’t rushed to keep up with the digital age. Everywhere you turn, there’s something to catch your eye, stacks of vivid green checks rolling off the line, blades slicing them into perfect pads, boxes filling up in neat repetition. It’s the kind of environment that almost overwhelms you visually, in the best way, where every corner holds a photograph waiting to happen. The challenge, and the joy, is slowing down enough to see it all. It felt less like work and more like wandering through a photographer’s playground, where the textures, colors, and small details reveal themselves the longer you stay.

Photographing it also felt like documenting a small but unmistakable piece of Americana, the kind of everyday object that sits alongside chrome diners, vinyl booths, and roadside classics in the collective memory. The humble guest check, with its familiar green ink and simple design, carries a quiet nostalgia that’s instantly recognizable, a symbol of meals shared and stories told across counters all over the country.

Photographed in Saint Paul, Minnesota for The New York Times.