"This is very strange," Makaria admitted, still frowning. The idea that she felt like she knew this man but he had no idea who she was, that was... no the usual way of the world. Though she supposed perhaps it was even stranger for him, people coming around with croissants and not having any idea why.
So Makaria reached her hand across the table to him so that he could shake it. "Hello," she said (although it sounded a little unsure), "I'm Makaria, and I'm one of the Greek gods of death."