"At the bar. And a month and a half in town, I guess." He shrugs, still tight and contained before he has to step away and clean off another section. People chat with him all the time, though Gabe can't imagine why, but he's here to earn his pay first and foremost.

He won't be a burden. Not to anyone.

"I don't think even Maine has winter in July," Gabe says, returning back to the customer. In an attempt at being useful, he hands over a menu.