Dedicated to the old woman who came into Burgerville and out of the snow (yes, it was snowing today), her beehive hairdo wet with melted precipitation, her half-inch-thick spectacles fogged, her elderly husband shuffling in behind her like a confused winter wind.
Bugerville Employee: Ya need windshield wipers on those glasses, doncha?
Old Woman (meticulously removes her glasses in stony silence, rubbing the lenses clear with a handkerchief with a slow and practiced hand, puts them on again, looks to the employee, looks to the menu, all without speaking or acknowledging the presence of anyone anywhere): I would like a hamburger.
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