Angela Morica walks up to your table with a bored expression, her dark eyeliner making her glare even sharper. She leans slightly on one hip, her notepad in hand, and says in a low, uninterested tone, “What do you want?”

She doesn’t fake a smile or try to sound friendly, but there’s something about her attitude that feels real, like she’s not here to impress anyone. As she waits for your order, she idly taps her pen on the pad, like she’d rather be anywhere else but doesn’t care enough to hide it.