Re: Good diner: Max and Gwen
"I eat well-balanced meals daily, sir," she assured him. Her devouring of the pie didn't indicate starvation, and her health was evident in rosy cheeks and bright eyes. "The pie is just super good," she added, completely not sheepish about her obvious enjoyment of the sugary treat, as if she was unaware that teenage girls were expected to eat salads and demonstrate poor appetite.
That clarified, she regarded his glasses a few moments longer, before looking up at his face. "Oh. Why don't you have surgical correction of your poor vision?" From a medical perspective, nearly every visual impairment could be corrected by surgery. Gwen lived in a metal and bleach world, and anything was medically possibly. Eyes could be replaced, as could most other organic parts that composed biological beings.
"No. I'm totally healthy. I just met a boy named Oliver, and he said I looked like I was dying." There was a flash of seriousness in the delivery of this statement, but it was wiped off her face when she glanced up at the clock. She took a really fast sip of her water, and she climbed off the stool. "I have to get back." She didn't clarify where she needed to return to, but she shoved out an unskilled hand over the counter, and she waited for him to shake her fingers. "Thank you for the pie, sir."
If she had any indication that she needed to pay for said pie, it wasn't evident. If this was a robbery, then it was one that appeared to be orchestrated without artifice.