The other night at work there's several lone people hanging out by the entrance. A man is waiting for his date. Another person is waiting for three others. And a couple is waiting for another couple. We don't seat tables until the entire party has arrived and everyone is waiting for their others.

I walk up to Nicole and ask what's going on. "Everybody is incomplete," she tells me.

"Wow," I say, looking at her intensely. "That's deep."