Mae summoned the waitress by slightly lowering her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and shouting, “Hey Barb! Barbara! Waitress Woman! I summon you to fetch cheesy fries for the kingdom of Table Eight! My faithful slave is feeling a bit peckish!”

The waitress glared over at their table, the dark circles under her eyes growing more dense. She shook her head, gave the cook the demanding order, and turned back to organizing coffee mugs.

Elliot stared at Mae in awe. Mae leaned in towards Elliot a second time, lowering her voice.

“Hey, if we’re going to be friends we really have to start it out with cheesy fries,” she said. Elliot looked confused, and began scratching at his nose.

“Ellioso, you really are starting to look like a fictional holiday television character with all that rubbing,” Mae warned.

“Its Elliot,” Elliot said confused.

“Yes, yes, Ellioso,” Mae said annoyed, brushing a fly away that tried to perch on her shoulder, “Have you ever read Satoris in Paris?“