‘Can you just not?’ I snap at Lorraine, the other waitress in this hellhole, and shove her out of the way with my arse as she lounges in the hatch in my way for the millionth time today. I am already tense and irritated by my day, and having her fat ugly face hanging around me makes me even more so.

‘What’s eating you, sugar?’ She drolls lazily, that fake New York twang she tries to mimic, even though she is from Texas, and eye rolls at me.

Her frizzy, over-processed ...