Poker Face

The waitress was scraping plates sadly into the bin. She seemed bored as she had no customers to attend to, for her it was going to be a long night.

A petite girl with tiny eyes and sharp features began to devour her basket of food, occasionally looking up from her phone she was immersed in. At another four-person table, one individual was sat with a sour look on his face, he wasn't alone though, two large burgers were there to keep him company.

The windows were fogged with steam and breath. After seeing a mediocre film, we were sharing a cosy fondue.

''I'm using this app where you like or dislike different users, and can chat with them, then, if you both match,'' I said.

Her eyes popped. "I actually know this one!"

She pointed at me. "Bidder!”

"What?" I asked.

"It's called Bidder, the one where you swipe and make a bid for people."

"Sort of. You're close. But it's actually called..."

"Don't tell me," she pondered for a few more seconds, moving her lips, though I think she was just reciting 'Bidder'.

"Okay, go on, then. What's it called?"

"Tinder," I retorted.

"No," she shook her head. "I preferred my one. Your name for it actually just doesn't make sense."


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