He came into the restaurant and sat down at the bar and set seven boxes on the counter—seven boxes of pizza. The restaurant was full, and the wait staff were busy, but when he set those boxes down they all turned their heads and smiled.
A tall guy behind the counter seemed to be in charge. He took the boxes into the back and returned with three bags of food—chips and queso and omelets and pancakes and who knows what.
“Can I have a Coke, too?” the guy on the stool asked.
They brought him a to-go cup, and he stood up to leave.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Thanks for the pizza!” a waitress said. She was practically jumping up and down. Then she looked over at me.
“I think he got the better deal,” I said.
“Oh no, we both got the better deal!” she said. And she disappeared into the back.