“Hamburger, soup, or what the fuck do you want?” I asked the next man in line, an older guy in a scally cap with a worn army jacket. He glared back at me.

“Young lady, you need to work on your attitude,” He lectured me.

“You need to work on your fashion choices,” I said, gesturing to his outfit ensemble. “Soup or burger?”

“I’ll take the fucking burger,” He growled. I reached into the pan on my left and slapped a hamburger onto a plate, handing it to him.

“Don’t you think you ought to wear gloves?” The man asked me, glaring at me intently.

Martina's and Aunt Miriam's enjoyment in hitting home runs pays off unexpectedly in an important mathematical breakthrough.