My eyes drift from the business card, to the beige envelope, then up to this woman's perfectly contoured face. She's far from the weirdest person I've seen in this homey little cafe. I'm a waitress — we practically specialize in dealing with crazies. It's just that usually, I'm an innocent bystander of that crazy; like, a man will come in without a shirt on, and I'll have to tell him that we can't serve him. The man would have been shirtless anyway. I was just the one who had to deal with it.
