I’m sitting on a bench
waiting for the Bank of Transilvania to open. I notice a waitress leave the
Cafe Dodo – slots, darts, pool and flipper – carrying a tray of coffees to the
punters in Republicii. I watch her intently as she goes back and forth. She has
olive skin, long black hair in a ponytail. Her face is feline, like
an anime-tiger girl. She wears bright red tights that accentuate muscular but
not excessive calf muscles. In fact, a gymnast about to walk onto the mat to do
her routine. She is purposeful with her head held high, back straight and feet
pointing slightly outwards.
She is a waitress.
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