remote cards

When we walked into the Korean restaurant it was empty, but they were warning us about how fully booked they were. They let us have a table, as long as we were out by seven. We said no problem, and they gave us the table right in front of them, not sure whether it was a kitchen, certainly seemed to be some preparation going on, but also various other activities. From here I can see out the window, along the street, and a slice of side street off there. I can see them come down that side street together, passing the window in front of me, taking the corner. A lanky couple, a kind of hybrid smart casual, smart blazer jackets - hers brown with checked, his black or blue. They go out of sight, but I suspect I am about to see them come through the door, and I am right. She is Asian, he is white, but they could be brother and sister, or the perfect couple. Both have long, long hair, dreaded, and their body language is so complimentary. She does the talking, asks if they can book a table? Tonight? Maybe about 8? For 4 people, he adds at the end. The waitress doubtfully says she will check. She asks the controller, tonight he asks astounded by the absurdity of the idea, but he double checks, other people have already been turned away since the place is that busy. The waitress has obviously warmed to the idea, so she emphasizes - about 8! Ok, the controller says, reaching up to his check list of tables and reservations, which is taped above his head, on a rim behind the counter just where we can’t see. Grudgingly, he says, maybe, about 8.30? Perhaps that will put them off? Yeah, that’s great, the girl says, eager. Ok, for 4? He double checks numbers. We need a name, the waitress says, taking the reservation, before saying she’ll see them later. They slouch out of there, heading back the way they came, then changing their mind, turning round, and heading back along the main road in the other direction.