Lunch-time, a popular city-centre restaurant, an ordinary Monday, a lot of people.
Bankers and insurance workers in suits. Young IT techs discussing the general IQ level of people involved in car racing. Mothers who bring a toddler with ear-shattering shrieks and a granny who is trying to distract the child. A balding elderly man with his Asian mail-order bride. Students waitressing to get money for a trip to Rome. Old ladies who take their time picking out their dessert icecream. Lonely people trying not to catch anyone's eye.
And me, with two ex-coworkers named Maria.
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