Pink stubby fingers rap ardently on a small Gameboy
The smell of garlic and oils hangs in the air
A woman taps her expensive high heels against the dark wood floor
Men are gathered around a single television screen, fervently making sporadic whooping sounds

The game-playing fingers adjust the volume; the soft elevator music's volume intensifies
The smell lingers in the room before the door is opened, and it is expelled
The woman shoots a glare at the men whooping at the screen and finds comfort in the sight of another lonely woman
The men ignore them

The little gamer shakes her toy; the battery is low
The room is void of scent, save for the smell of a single glass of wine wedged between the salt and paprika
The woman cracks her knuckles and heaves a sigh
The men begin to boo

The little gamer has lost the game; the screen has gone blank
The waiter comes to the table and removes the glass; he spills a drop onto the fine white cloth
The woman eyes the drop as it spreads like wildfire across the table
The men groan and protest

The girl places the game upon the table, her face riddled with vexation
She places her arms down carelessly on the table-top, the red wine staining her sleeves
The woman turns her head away
The men shut the TV off; "I can't watch anymore"

The girl notices her sullied sleeves and smiles, the face of childhood rebellion
The waiter comes to the table and asks the woman, "Which one is your husband?"
The woman points at the man in the red baseball cap, his face purple with aggravation
The men head back

The little girl is helped from her chair
The tables are cleaned
The woman heaves another deep sigh when she reads the sign on the wall
"Thursday Night is Family Night; Kids Eat Free"