They'll get a set menu at the bar next to the buffet, they say, because it's already very late and they don't have time to go home. She, determined, while writing a message to her son, who's at his driving lesson, tries to go inside. The door is automatic, but it doesn't open. She gives herself a loud thump on the nose, like in old-fashioned comedies. The man with her makes a gesture of annoyance and exclaims:Fuck"That's all I needed!"
She doesn't react. All the bar's patrons react. The waitresses know her and immediately give her paper to stop the bleeding. "I'd cry from embarrassment," she exclaims. "No, don't worry! It happens to lots of people," says a worker from the shop next door, who was having breakfast. And he adds: "I saw you on TV today, you spoke very well." She, still dazed, tries to see the extent of the wound. Blood inside, is that it? Morning program about a media case. She's put on her designer jacket (now all stained) and it seemed to her that she had explained quite well what she wanted. She's treating it like a holiday. "Ice!" Laura, who is the cook, immediately brings it, but she doesn't want it. "Sit down..." says a woman, taking her hand. "Put your head up, that's it..." says a man dressed as a delivery driver. She says thank you, apologizes (that's very typical of her), and nods. The man with her is the only one who hasn't said a word. He's stood there, frozen, a look of displeasure on his face. "How can he help her?" the delivery man whispers. "He's her husband...!"
