Little sister with the cast and purple pendant, still insisting that she could bus these tables alright. She's operating the fountain. Little sister, oh my gosh, won't you be my defendant when I go to trial for all these thoughts that I'm a-thinkin' tonight, these thoughts of climing the mountain? Maybe I'm out of my mind, but I'm adjusting the tension.      Her green shirt with the tiny alligator on it — look me in the eye! Oh, look me in the eye when you are passing by with the water. At my table on a napkin I'd compose a sonnet, but it would turn out too lewd so I won't go that far. I know she's somebody's daughter.      I think she's out of my league, but I'll still bother to mention, "I've seen you in here on a number of Friday nights. I wonder what you're doing when the customers have all gone home. I wish I could go with you after you've turned off all the lights..." But Nathan told me yesterday he saw you down on SE Harrison with some guy.      I know I'll miss her little cast and her purple pendant. She's sharper than any blades the dishwasher handles in the back over the steam that keeps rising. Someone cued the jukebox to play the Descendents. I can tell she hears it as she's sweeping out a salt & pepper rack, and I'm just now realizing: I spent $6 on dinner but I'll still go home hungry.