I realized it's impossible to describe Gramma directly. The best way I could think of was this, from late May, 2005:
I walk up to the counter at the Panda Gourmet in Chapel Hill Mall. The girl working the counter looks to be the usual
High-Schooler, slouching, looking very bored and wishing she was somewhere else. She asks if she can take my order, looking off in a different direction completely. "Two orders of Orange Chicken with Fried Rice, and I need one of them to be the chicken off the top."
She grabs a box, fills it with fried rice, and starts pushing some of the chicken from the top into the sauce at the bottom...
"No, no... I need the chicken off of the top of the pan."
"I know, I'm just getting some extra sauce on it for you."
"But it's not for me. My Gramma has diabetes and needs less sauce."
"OH! You're her Grandson? I know exactly who your Grandma is." She immediately got the chicken off the top of the pan, smiled and looked me in the eyes for the rest of the transaction, and threw an extra fortune cookie in the bag. In the three seconds it took her to register which customer this was for, she went from your normal teenager in a part time job, to a contientious person who cared about getting things right. Just because of whom it was for.