James turned his head from away from the outside view and there she was, Anna. She never seemed to remember him, but then again they never really talked much. He could only wish that she secretly admired his presence as he did hers. He smiled and said, “I’ll have a nice hot cup of coffee. I need to wake up a little. Oh, and I’d love to have the owner’s favorite choice for breakfast.”<br/><br/>He felt a little nervous as he normally mumbled to avoid the awkwardness of socializing, but this time he wanted to make an impression. If she had forgotten him, he hoped she’d remember him this time. He sat back and observed her beautiful eyes. It side-tracked him, as he wanted to say, “your name is Anna, right? My name’s James. James Phill, an artist. And you are very pretty, did you know that?” But it hadn’t come out just right. Instead, he stared at her, noticing the bum slipping into the back of the diner. Then he looked back to her, almost ready to speak, but still staring. You’d think by the age 21, he’d have grown some courage to talk to pretty women.<br/>