Unloved glove

“Sorry, honey, I haven’t seen it today either,” said the waitress as she put the bill face down near the edge of the table. “Thanks,” said George with a smile and went back to reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee. When both the paper and the cup had given everything they had, he reached into his pocket, took out a handful of change and laid it on top of the bill without counting it, then he slid along the bench and got on his feet; he put on his coat, his tuque, his scarf and finally, his left glove and walked towards the exit. He stood by the waiter’s station, a couple of meters from the door and the cash register, where a man he didn’t recognize talked on the phone and poked numbers into a calculator. George faced the kitchen door with his arms down on his sides, intermittently wiping the palm of his right hand on his pants or shaking it in a fanning movement with his fingers wide apart. The door across the aisle swung open and the waitress emerged mixed in a cloud of smoke that smelled of eggs, bacon, sausage and buttered toast, holding two plates on her left arm and a fresh pot of coffee in her right hand. She saw George’s contour against the door and briefly smiled at him before turning sharply to her left towards a table occupied by two young men laughing away the last few hours of the night. She handed each plate to its respective owner, filled in one of the cups with coffee and moved over to the next table where a woman, whose face George couldn’t see, asked for her check and declined an offer to warm up her coffee. The waitress swiftly walked back pass the two men who devoured their food in silence, but she stopped square right before turning towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw George, who hadn’t moved an inch, standing against the winter morning light coming in a sharp angle through the window behind him. The kitchen door opened again and the turmoil of dishes and pans called at her from within. She looked down for a second and started off into the cloud that had begun to float into the dinning area. When she disappeared completely, closing the door behind her, George grabbed a couple of mints from a crystal bowl by the door and walked out and into the new day.