Right after the semester started, I ate at this particular restaurant, Marco's, all the time because it was so close to campus.The owner, Ruby Friday, was a woman in her 40s, sharp as a tack, always sizing up the students who walked through the door and calculating exactly how much she could squeeze out of each one.That day at lunch, I ordered a ten-dollar sandwich and sat with my earbuds in, going over flashcards. A few minutes later, a steaming, greasy-looking bowl of something called the "house special seafood stew" was slammed down onto my table.I blinked and pulled out my earbuds. "Excuse me. You've got the wrong table. I didn't order this.""Oh, no, it's yours!" Ruby flashed me a slick grin and pushed a fork into my hand."Sweetheart, I see you in here all the time, always dressed so nice, carrying all those nice things. Someone like you isn't going to miss a few extra bucks."This is our brand-new signature special. I had the kitchen whip it up just for you because I li
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