The problem with the water seemed to be a city-wide problem, and soon the diner was filled with people needing their caffeine fix. The entrance parking lot was almost entirely blocked by a large flock of frothing barista from the barista district. The baristas were assuming that people in the diner had something to do with the lack of water, and were now out to get their revenge. Luckily for all the employees and customers in the diner, the manager had just sprayed the building and parking lot with barista-repellent, and it wouldn't wear out for a few thousand years or so. Silver remembered the horrible times before they got barista-repellent, where they'd had to beat all the baristas with broomsticks, and occasionally hatchets and pickaxes. It was a dark time indeed.<br/><br/>Silver was busy expediting the people in the store, fully able to ignore the growling and occasional howl from the baristas outside the parking lot. It wasn't a rare occurrence after all, so you just had to become used to the sound. After a while, it even become soothing. Familiar. Safe. Terrifying. Safe.<br/><br/>Silver stood at the end of a booth in which a young man was sitting. Or, at least they thought that it was a man. Honestly, gender wasn't a very good descriptor to use for anyone. It was horribly inaccurate at best, and gender was too abstract to be helpful anyway. Why would you want to know if a person is a man or a woman? Does it matter? Does it make a difference in your life? No, didn't think so.<br/><br/>"How can I help you?" Silver asked the person in the booth, the alleged man. This was, of course, purely a pleasantry. Silver wasn't interested in hearing how they could help this person with anything. They just wanted to know what the person wanted to order.