Meg choked on a mouthful of coffee at this comment. "It's an expression, Clarence. Hooker sounds nicer than slut. At least then she's turning a profit."
She jumped slightly as the plate landed in front of her, but didn't say anything. The wet spot on the front of the waitress's skirt was payback enough.
Meg raised an eyebrow at his comment about the pancakes, but didn't comment otherwise. She turned her focus to slathering butter on her pancakes instead.
They ate in silence for what felt like ages, Meg kept finding herself distracted by the rain storm going on outside. She felt the intense desire to walk around in it.
"Walk me out, Clarence," she said as the now dry waitress handed her back her credit card.