Sunday 5:30 a.m., as a waitress approaches a customer seated in a booth:
"Are you new here? What's your name?"
"Rosa."
"That's a lovely name. I want cinnamon toast, but not the pre-made kind, I want four slices of white bread toasted and buttered, then shake the cinnamon on the top. That guy [points to a cook working in the kitchen] knows exactly how I like it."
He speaks in the quiet, measured tones of a cinematic psychopath.
"I'm telling you, I'm very specific. Two eggs over easy, bacon and two slices of honeydew and one slice of cantaloupe, not the other way around. I hope you get this right."
The waitress is creeped out.
"If you do, I'll stand on my head."
--Man with short gray hair, wearing a black leather jacket, black leather pork pie hat, black leather cycling gloves and an air of dread.