not since last night. how's the pie? red garnett, 60, a grizzled but handsome texas ranger, sits at the counter slowly chewing.
same pie as yesterday. not much call for rhubarb. sell one slice a day. in the background we hear a siren. red turns and watches a police patrol car whiz past, lights on.
yer off duty. tell me, if i stopped bakin' 'em would you still come by every night? red, preoccupied, takes another rubbery bite.
naw, red garnett, you don't come in here for the coffee and pie. you come in here for the company. to see me. another patrol car races past. red's eyes follow it.
now that i've said that, i'll go one better. what say i cook you dinner at my place sometime? steaks, baked taters, cold beer, the works. well?.  i'm askin' you out. she turns to face red but he's gone. a coupla dollars lie next to the half-eaten pie. all she can do is sigh.