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Smith pulled into the dinner. It was a cold July night, and it seemed the night was only going to get colder. Smith had just gotten the news that he was no longer a member of the working class. He had nothing to lose and this was just the place for him, because it had nothing to offer.

Smith entered the dinner and took the closet seat to the door which happened to be a stool at the counter. The waitress asked what he would like to have. Smith ask what the specials where. The other people in the dinner consisted of three old men in a corner playing cards, a young couple who seemed to be lost in each others eyes, and lastly another man on the stool next to his. Smith was trying to get up the nerve to pull the gun, but couldn't seem to do it. His food came and he deiced to do it after the meal. Why not get something to eat first?

As he ate he watched the people around him and wondered how there lives differed from his. The old men playing cards where joking and laughing, drinking coffee and slipping in a little something when the waitress wasn't looking making it a little Irish. They seemed to be very at ease and even called the waitress by her name. Must live close by and be regulars. The couple was in love as all young people seem to be known days. He remembered those days, he had problems then too but he couldn't remember any of them now. What more could be said about the couple they noticed nothing but each other. The dinner could come crashing down around them and they would still be simply looking into each others eyes discovering wonders that only lovers know. The man, well the man was interesting. He seemed to be on edge. He was wearing the same tattered clothes as smith himself. He stared only at his food as he shoved it into his mouth, looking around from time to time to see if anyone was going to take it from him.