Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203
I was waitressing at the underground poker club, down by the barracks, tucked way behind the metal scrap yard, next to the auto body shop. It was a regular night and the house was full. You sat at the table for hours, sunglasses on, expressionless. I couldn’t tell if you were staring at me. Every time I’d serve you, you thanked me kindly and touched my hand to hand me a chip.