Every now and then she would look up from her menu whenever the bell on the door rang. This time it was a couple holding hands that lead themselves to the booth behind hers.
She couldn’t decide between the burger or club sandwich.
Ring. A young man. Not hers.
This is getting ridiculous, she thought to herself. I should at least pick something.
Her waitress walked over and asked whether she was ready or not.
Ready? No. Never ready, never decisive.
I’ll have the sandwich, please, and a glass of water, she answered back quickly.
But what she really wanted was the burger and coke.
Ring. Another disappointment.
She placed a bill on the table and quickly brushed off the scratched off nail polish remains that kept her unknowingly occupied.
Ring. No one turned around to see her leave.