"You okay, George?" Ringo asked.

"Yeah, I'm just hungry."

"So you're okay. I'm actually pretty hungry too." He pointed to a side cafe.

The two walked in, getting odd looks at their mop tops.

"Kids these days." An elderly woman muttered.

I'll have you know I'm in my 20s, lady.

"Hi! My name's Pattie! How can I help you?" The lady at the counter asked. She had long, strawberry blonde hair and a nice smile.

"Um, I'll have a sandwich." George said, gazing at the young lady.

"Sure! Which one? We have over 50 to choose from!" She presented the board hanging over her head as if she was one of those ladies on game shows presenting a car.

"I. LOVE. YOU."

"Oh, um. Thank you?" She giggled.

"I guess I'll have number 9."

"Number 9!" She shouted to the cook.

"Number 9?" He questioned.

"Number 9!"

"Number 9!" The cook shouted to another cook.

"Number 9?"

"Number 9!"

*This round of "Number 9" went on for about 5 minutes.*

"Um, so, if you'll just wait at one of the tables till your order's ready. And what'll you have?"

"Um, number 9, I guess."

"Number 9!" She shouted again.

"Another number 9?"

"Another number 9!"

*This round of "another number 9" went on just as long*

The two sat down at a table nearby the counter so George could stare at Pattie.

A woman holding the hand of a little girl and a camera walked up to George and Ringo. "Excuse me," she said in her American accent. The young girl hid between the woman's knees, slightly looking over them on the left.  "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm a photographer and I was wondering if I could take a few pictures of your table."

"The table?" They asked, getting up from their seats.

"Um, just the table and if maybe one of you could set your hand on the edge."

"Okay..." George set his hand on the edge.

"Thanks, now if you'll just-"

"Two number nines?"

"FOOD!" George shouted, running to the counter, accidentally knocking the the woman and young girl over.

"George, you stupid- Sorry, he gets like this when he knows food's coming." Ringo said, helping her up. He extended a hand out to the little girl, but she got up herself.

"It's fine. I'm Linda, and this is Heather."

"Hi." He said, trying to start a conversation with Heather.

Heather didn't reply. She stayed hidden behind Linda's knees.

"Sorry, my daughter's pretty shy around strangers."

"Weren't we all?" He chuckled.

George walked back, holding two rolled up brown paper bags. "Oh, uh, sorry. I- uh, kinda love food."

"Ha, it's okay." She glanced at her watch. Her eyes grew wide. "I gotta go, nice talking to you!" Linda and Heather ran out of the cafe. A photograph slipped out of her large purse.

"Hey, you-" It was a picture of Heather playing on a wooden swing in the air.

"Didn't Paul find a photo too?"

"It's probably Linda's too!"