Lane snorted. "Guess so. Though really, there should be a cheat sheet on condiments. Or flow charts. I'd like to see a flowchart for sauerkraut and Tabasco sauce at least." He pushed his empty plate away and fished a few bills out of his coat pocket. "I'd tell you to enjoy, but it looks like you are." He tossed the bills by the plate, eyes on their reflection in the glass of the pie-case "Guy at 4 o'clock by himself in the red booth. Came in right after you, just drinking coffee. Can't keep his eyes off you - and I don't get a vibe like he's just going to ask for your number. I'd ask if you want me to stick around, but you look like you can take care of yourself."