Another waitress walked up behind Gina, who’s face was plastered with questions which were mostly along the lines of, why me? The other waitress was older, middle aged, and her pink uniform fit more snugly on her pudgy frame.

“Hey, its Brenda!” shouted Zooey. Fritz looked at Zooey amused.

“You know the waitstaff by name…I knew you liked breakfast…but seriously,” he said with a laugh.

Brenda pushed Gina aside, and ordered her to butter toast.

“All she’s good for anyway,” Brenda muttered.

“So,” Brenda said as she looked from Zooey and then back to Fritz,”Two bowls of java, a large order of french toast, one pancake, cut in half, a cup of whipped cream, a marichino cherry with the stem, and one spoon.”

“Brenda, you remembered my usual…you are divine,” said Zooey. Brenda looked over to Fritz.

“And for you?”

“Uh,” Fritz stammered, “yeah, I’ll have that too, minus the spoon part.” Brenda walked away with a smirk and yelled the order to the cooks.

“No spoon?” Zooey questioned.