my section shortly after seven.
They looked wealthy.
Not flashy exactly, but comfortable in the effortless way some people are.
They told me they were celebrating their anniversary.
The woman was polite.
So was her husband.
Actually, they were kinder than many customers I dealt with.
But something about them seemed distracted.
The man kept checking his phone beneath the table.
Every time he looked at it, his wife stopped speaking and watched his expression.
Still, they ordered as though they were determined to enjoy the evening.
Oysters.
Filet mignon.
