The girl puts a finger on her mouth as she furrows her brow, deciding who to pick. Her other hand points and towards each of the lads in turn, Tim still weeping as the finger pases and Joe giving a shy of releif. The finger stops when it reaches Lyle, a young lad with a soft, small gymnast's body, with light blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes. Alas the sparkle is more of terror and despair at the moment as the pretty woman presses he finger onto the glass and taps it lightly, turning around with a casual smile and speaking in a soft voice, "I think he will do just fine."

The waitress looks to the lad, a little dissapointed. It wa sperhaps a bit nieve for her to think he would last. Still, she raises her eyebrow quizically and asks, "Are you sure?"