He nodded, eyes still drifting toward the window and the rain outside. Only too late did he realize that he was agreeing to more water, which didnât feel like such a good idea in hindsight. Signing âthank youâ, he then shook his head as he pointed toward the water and mouth âI donât want moreâ. Instead he took the paper towels and patted at his wet trousers. Reaching out with his free hand, he tapped the menu on his table, specifically at some kind of steak dish, hoping the waiter would take the cue..
While he didnât understand sign language, it didnât take much to realize his customer was signing and miming rather than speaking. Was he deaf or...mute? Ah well, it worked well enough either way. âAlright! No water, and thatâs your order. Would you like that rare, medium-rare, or well-done?â he asked as he fished a pen and pad out of his little waist apron. Weird that he didnât want a drink, but ah well. He wasnât even technically at one of his tables, but no use pushing it off on the other waiter when he was already there.
