“What did you say your background was again?” she asked. Just then the waiter walked by placing the check on the table, refilling their waters for the fifth time, and continuing on to the next patron. Edith set her purse on the table to pay the bill. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Paying my bill, of course,” she said, still rummaging in her purse. “Absolutely not,” he said curtly, with mild amusement on his face. She blinked a few times. “You’re not paying for my dinner, don’t be ridiculous. This is not a…” she shook her head slightly, searching for what to say, “… social arrangement.” His
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