“Because he’s got no sense of humor, I guess.” Ford replied and asked: “Can I use your phone?”
“Sure. You know where it is.” said the waitress kindly, as Ford was already getting up and slowly moving to the far-right side of the bar, trying to read the telephone number written on the wrinkled piece of paper.
Sara turned around and started walking toward the kitchen, but Steve shouted after her, “You got Coca Cola? Tell me you got Coca Cola.”
“We’ll get some, gringo. We’ll take care of it.” replied the waitress over her shoulder and turned back to the kitchen, saying something quietly, laughing and shaking her head. Soon enough, Ford returned to the table and prepared a paper napkin for the culinary m******e, carefully placing it so as to avoid staining his shirt. Dust and grease should
