Aborted waffle

A middle-aged man ordered coffee and a water. He deliberated the menu well after his drinks were delivered, then he asked me if we had eggs prepared in a way that would be cheap enough to order a waffle with them. I offered scrambled eggs, but he didn't like them being $7.95. "I'm trying to find a way I can get both eggs and a waffle." He was taking a long time. "Would you like another minute?" I ventured. "... Hmm," and a long pause he replied. "OK well, I gotta try the waffle." I left and momentarily felt neglectful of my other tables since he took so long. The man waited for the waffle impatiently and I attended to other duties. A while later, I spotted the waffle in the expo window and rushed to deliver it. "Do you have any syrup?" "It's very sweet as it is. There are sugar crystals inside it that melt when we toast it." He was unimpressed. "But if you'd still like something I can bring you honey or agave syrup. Try it; it's good." He was doubtful. A server's sixth sense is customer dissatisfaction. I felt this man's unhappiness like a toxic waste spill. Glancing at his table from afar, I saw the waffle half eaten and his fork was down. Uh-oh. He signaled for the check. On my way to deliver the bill, I noticed an unfolded napkin draped over the waffle. I reconciled the bill and the man abruptly departed, leaving the aborted waffle on the table like an unsuccessful surgery patient.