“What can I get you to drink, Mr. Cruz?” “What time you get off, Miss ... wait. What’s your last name?” Her eyes dart to the coffeepot she’s reaching for and lifts it up from its base. “It’s Sanders and I get off at ten.” She heads down the aisle, refilling an elderly couple’s glasses before moving to the opposite side of the room. Well okay then. Looks like I’m here until ten. Deciding to wait in the truck after I get my order, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, she’s knocking on the window.