I’m having breakfast at Portage Bay Cafe. The dining room has this unusual split-level arrangement; half of it is higher than the other, with a low wall that comes up to about waist height for the people in the upper half.
I was seated right next to the wall, on the lower side, enjoying a really tasty ham scramble, when I see a hand casually slide over the wall and just dangle there. As if its owner was draping it out a car window.
Every now and then he’d kinda pick at one of his fingernails. Kinda gross, when you’re right below it.
After a bit of thought, I picked up a packet of sugar and slid it into this hovering hand. Fingers closed reflexively, and my gift was accepted. The hand drew out of sight.
A moment later, the old dude it belonged to poked his head over the wall. I waved. He said “Thank you!” and vanished.
And took his dangling hand with him.