They watched as she dealt out menus and crayons to the awaiting customers.

“She looks… peculiar.”

She tossed back her auburn hair and scrawled something down on her notebook.

“What is it about her?”

She was most definetly not ugly. Her dark features only seemed to highlight the fact that she was beautiful; a different kind. More like a gossamer, just floating in and out of memory.

“Not sure yet.

The kitchen doors swung wide open again, and she seemed to ride the wind like a homesick spirit. She flashed a quick smile at the family, and all others seemed to pale in her black light.

“She’s a hard nut to crack.”

She turned again to go to her domain, catching another waitor off guard. The scene was hypnotizing; the waitor, a burly guy with shoulders as broad as an ox, managed to balance the steaming tray on one hand. The waitress was knocked off her feet, getting a chair square in the groin.

Her face contorted, and in a rugged, deep, baritone voice bellowed- “My BALLS!”

“Literally.”