Pancakes

Unacceptable

Unacceptable. This is simply unacceptable. For an entire week I put up with all the sighing, and gazing out the window, and now today, I come in for my breakfast, and she's not even here! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! How am I supposed to enjoy a proper breakfast with all this nonsense?
"What do you want?" A large, rather frightful woman is glaring at me from over my newspaper.
"Um, just some pancakes and a coffee, please."
"K."
"Wait." What are you doing, George? "Where's Becky?" No, no, no.
"Who knows."
Highly unacceptable. Becky knows I'm in here every weekday, seven AM on the dot, and she has the nerve not to show? Dreadfully irresponsible of her.
Was that the bell?
"Sorry I'm late Ingrid!" It's about time. "Hey George, somebody already take care of you?"
"Yes." Although I can't say it was an altogether pleasant experience.
"Good. I'm so sorry I must've overslept." Here we go again, her voice is going to go all dreamy and her eyes'll frost over. "I got in so late last night..." And now the reminiscent murmuring. Unacceptable behavior, highly unacceptable.