She's there first thing when I show up. The resident artist.
She hangs about the restaurant while your setting up, for no reason in particular, just hanging out. She's about 60, terrible hair, heavily overweight, obviously plastic teeth carefully molded into the original overbite by an sadistically meticulous dentist. She has a particularly vapid smile which she imagines to be charming. It's just offputting.
The staff despise her.
She hangs out, follows the owner about, talking to him...she just wants to keep in touch, and staff ignore her until she manages to catch someone's eye and avails herself of the opportunity to ask for a cappuccino. She's a freeloader. After the cappuccino she'll drop hints to the owner, she'd love some food, dessert maybe....but while she's drinking the cappuccino she talks about her many ailments. Her hip, her back, slipped discs, she's got these magnets that a friend gave her and they're doing her a world of good (and one is tempted to observe that placebos work best with psycho-somatic ailments, but she wouldn't get it...).
After a while the owner gets busy and so she follows the staff around, she has pictures of her work on a digital camera she's just happened to bring with her, commonplace mountain scenes and landscapes, they look passable, although anything looks passable when reduced to the size of a one inch LCD display. There are cougars and wolves as well, and we feign interest and remark upon her obvious talent.
We're obviously lying, but it's what she wants to hear.
And she hangs about a bit longer, mooching, trying to stick a finger in every dessert that comes out of the fridge, waiting for the owner to offer her some food but he's busy and forgets and so eventually she runs out of people to show her pictures to and she just disappears.