Jane

At a cinema underneath a railway arch, I ask the girl behind the bar whether she might tell me her middle name.  She is wearing black and a checked neck-scarf.  Her forehead wrinkles at my request.  'What are you going to do with this information?' she asks.  I explain that I am writing a sort of blog.  She looks at me with faint pity.  'Well, I'm glad I could help you out', she says.