A Tale of Two Challah Tables –Dana

Last Friday, Woman A was at her spot. She sat there waiting. As people came and went (she couldn't miss anyone; the table is right by the gym's only entrance and exit), she looked left and right to watch the foot traffic. I've never heard her utter a single word. She's just...there.

On alternate Fridays, Woman B sits behind the table. She's a real crackerjack. Even before I scan my member ID and pass through the turnstile, I hear her voice, talking to whoever's passing by her table. She is friendly. She's ever cheery. She takes pride in her appearance—her hair is just so, and her makeup has been skillfully applied. She makes a point of engaging everyone.