“Just the one drink for you all tonight, huh?” Daisy says, and flashes them her most waitressly smile. She practices it every morning in the mirror, the quick flick of the chin down, the dimples shining toward them, the curling of one side of her lips, the dancing, twitching, of her left pupil. Boss said she should practice, because when she was first hired, she would scowl, unknowingly, at every customer. You gotta sell it, the boss said.
Stories Like You
