Waiting

A man in miss matched clothing looked up at Rebekah. "Out of all the people I have met in America, you are my favorite."

Rebekah frowned. "Why is that?"

The man smiled and said in a heavy accent that Rebekah couldn't quite place, "You tell me exactly what you want. You don't beat the bush."

Rebekah held back a sigh. This man had talked to her for seven minutes now."The saying is 'beat around the bush,' and I'm just doing my job. Now, do you want the Calamari or the Fried Mozzarella?"