I thought that was forward but decided to show her. When I did she brightened up considerably. She sat down in my booth and told me about how her neighbor's son's life had been saved when an uncle (if I remember correctly) had died in a motorcycle crash. The needed organ had been a good match, and the kid had been saved at what, the waitress said, was virtually the last minute. Since then she had apparently been looking at every rider she saw as a potential organ donor and had become an evangelist. She had quite a spiel about what a great thing it was, "extending someone else's life when yours is over." She saw motorcyclists as wonderful potential donors because she thought we were all hearty models of health, and, though she didn't actually say it, likely to die in that condition.