Lady Shiva watched the farce around her as the stranger boldly approached her despite the wait staff's best tricks. His body language spoke of brashness, of inability to resist a challenge, but not of antagonism. Shiva allowed him to approach, though made a mental note to reprimand the waiters for their failure.
"'Delicate flower'," she echoed in midwestern American English. The waitress who had been arranging for her meal returned with a computer printout of a menu. Shiva took the papers and began to look over them.
"An odd turn of phrase. Tell me, what does it mean to you?" Behind Shiva, the waitress mouthed 'go!' at the stranger, a look of genuine concern on her face. Shiva pretended not to notice.