[The sky is a delicious shade of tangerine, a masterpiece of orange hues and tones of pink and red, gradually fading to a dull blue-grey opposite the sun. Large parasols stand watch above a small number of tables fenced in against a small building, a creamy beige in color brilliantly reflecting the sun's setting rays with its west-side wall, and overflowing with the aromatic scent of baked goods. The now-empty tables bask in the light, and a slight breeze catches the napkin on a table that has not yet been cleared, lifting it for a brief flight.]

*catches the napkin just as it floats toward his hand, then looks down at the table in front of him and sighs*
[color=2e3192]I can't understand why people leave such lousy tips. There's nothing I can do with this little money. But...I guess that's the way people are. And a job is a job...[/color]
*wryly twitches the corner of his mouth down into a half-frown, then shrugs around and grabs a washcloth and begins wiping the table down*