“Katie’s out there,” I overheard someone tell Lee.
He stood like a bouncer at the end of the line where the trays were handed through the window. He nodded dispassionately as people picked up their dinners, one by one. Sometimes he recognized someone who’d been in line before.
“No seconds,” Lee told them. This was only the first shift. There had to be enough for everyone.
Katie had been escorted out the week before. Unruly behavior is what we overheard. She was back again, had been spotted in the parking lot, stomping and rubbing her hands together in the cold, waiting for the doors to open.
“She’s the one in the black hoodie.”
“We’ll see how she does,” he said.