"Her eyes light up. 'Can he do that for me?'
"'Uh. I'll be right back.'
"The cook is looking at me expectantly when I come back, and I tell him, a little unnerved, 'She wants them raw in the middle.'
"He stares at me. 'Raw?'
"'Raw,' I confirm.
"He blinks, shrugs, and less than a minute later, there are two pancakes, barely solid, on a plate for her. She devours the goop happily while her husband, who had already finished his food, watches fondly, shaking his head a little at her strangeness.
"After that, it was a matter of seeing how raw the cooks could make them every time she came in. We'd send back her order with 'RAW' in all caps and underlined. She was thrilled, her husband just laughed at her, and we servers tried to keep from throwing up in our mouths as we watched. But hey, at least she was nice." [Editor’s Note: Well, fair’s fair -- pancake batter does always taste better than the disappointment of actual pancakes, which are bad.] -- Melanie Korver