Justin was taking a personâ€™s order in when one of the waiterâ€™s dropped ice down his shirt. Instant reflex was to prepare for battle before second reflex came in of how to relax when it was evaluated that it was not a threat. He smiled at the waiter and took ahold of the nearby spray nozzle. â€œFire.â€ he said in a serious voice. Spraying the teenager with deadly accurate aim. The teenager sputtered and stood there with a wet chest blinking. The teenager soon laughing and thumbs upping him. â€œYou got me with accurate aim military man.â€ He said. Walking off to help one of his tables. Justin put the hose back into the sink like it went. He then called out the order. â€œBurger hold the onions with extra pickle. Cheesy fries with extra bacon bits. Vanilla shake.â€ He said. Putting the order slip above the window to the kitchen.<br/><br/>As he took a tray of food to table nine the older woman called out as he walked with the trays one the flat part of his arm. â€œJUSTIN! JUSTIN CAN YOU TAKE TABLE FIVE?â€ She called out. Justin saluted with his free hand. â€œMaâ€™am yes maâ€™am.â€ He called back. He gave the people at table nine their food. He then rummaged around on the counter until he got the pad and pen. He took it and put the pen behind his ear. Truth was in a town as small as this nobody really cared who she was. This was the perfect place to go to disappear or not be harrassed by mobs of fans. The people in this town didnâ€™t even know who she was. They were a town that didnâ€™t care who was who in the modern society. They cared about more home ideals such as family and caring for their neighbors.<br/><br/>He walked to table five and stopped. That scent...she was here. He stopped and looked at the woman in the booth. She was the same woman from the motel. He approached the table. He smiled at Gypsy. â€œMaâ€™am. Sir.â€ he said. He looked at Jared. â€œDo you two know what you want to drink? Sorry for the wait. Mrs. Watson is short handed on staff. I had to finish up elsewhere with Old man Martin to come help her.â€ He took the pen from behind his ear. Ready to take down their drink orders. His gaze moved to gypsy. â€œI saw you both at the motel.â€ He said. Smiling a bit. â€œThis is a small town. Are you enjoying your time in our society?â€ He asked. He was formal though. His entire demeanor gave off the military man vibe. He waited patiently. You had to have patience when fighting a war. The smallest amount of time to the largest amount of time could prove critical to a win or loss of a battle.<br/><br/>He had lost allies when he was overseas. He had lost friends. He had won wars and seen deaths. He was now seeing what it was like to be ex-military and civilian. He had the patience that was far more than a saints. His patience level would probably end up driving a saint up the wall. In any case he was able to stand in one position for a long time without needing to rest.