Meet market in the FCP Food Court

In the heart of the financial district in Toronto, the First Canadian Place serves as one of the lunchtime Meccas for suits and skirts alike. 12 pm is the peak of the lunchtime rush hour. That being said, it's damn crowded inside the second floor food court, and finding a place to sit and eat is no easy challenge. As my co-worker and I search the seating with eagle eyes carrying our trays of takeout chicken biryani, we have no choice but to share a four-seater table with strangers. We finally see this one table in the corner near Swiss Chalet Express. There's a woman sitting there, an overweight Asian woman dressed in a soiled white apron, with greasy hair tied back in a hairnet. She probably works in the kitchen, and she's slurping noodles loudly out of her styrofoam bowl. My co-worker and I shrug and sit down to share the table with her. As he and I chit chat and eat our food, I notice the woman next to me keeps stealing glances at me. I try to ignore her, at first but then she mumbles something at me in between chewing her food.
"Pardon me?" I ask.
"You beautiful," she says, eyes intense, mouth full of noodles. "You are very beautiful."
"Oh. Um. Thanks."
I turn back to my co-worker and try hard to resume our conversation, my face turning red. He's politely trying not to laugh.
I know I am a soon-to-be married woman, but it's nice, or in this case disturbing, to realize what my market value is.