Lyla lay her head on the table. Quitting her job had seemed the only choice yesterday, so that’s what she’d done. But now, she recognized it was just one of many options, and she wasn’t even sure anymore if quitting made the top ten.

                Her hair was curly, and what she would describe as unmanageable, although her ex-boyfriend would’ve disagreed. Was someone even considered an ex-boyfriend if you’d just been best friends for seven years, followed by three bad dates?

                She didn’t know and she knew better than to ask anyone. Even her sister was getting tired of hearing about it.

                But today was a new low, she thought, as her face stuck to a table at Panera Bread at ten in the morning. Lyla let out a sigh and peeled herself from the sleek surface.

                “Can I get you something?”

                Jesus, when had the waiter gotten here? Were they even called waiters at Panera Bread? She wondered if his ex- best friend referred to him as an ex-boyfriend?

                Question’s unknowable.

                “Just another coffee, thanks,” she said.

                “Okay,” he said, pushing his brown hair behind an ear, “Is that it?”

                “Actually, could you come back in a little? I’m not sure I know what I want yet,” Lyla said.

                The worker at Panera, who some might consider a waiter, scratched at his notepad, and began to walk away.

                “Join the club,” he said.