The hallway that runs between them acts as a buffer zone to separate the dining room from the take out area where the sixty something head waitress, who wore 12 rows of earrings, wiped her nose as she gathered up and repackaged kiddie sippy cup straws that had fallen behind the wait station, then swept the floor of cup lids, coffee grounds and a broken coffee pot, also from beneath and behind the aforementioned wait station.
I might have to copyright that post to include in my novel. I have a perfect place for it once I polish it up and embellish a bit.