The Plant gal

Aw, there's this gal that comes into work. She used to come in every day, almost. She's sort of tomboyish; wears a flannel shirt, jeans, workboots, you know, baseball cap. Wears her hair in a long braid. Cute, hawt even.
She'll sit at the counter and eat and talk with the cook. Her conversations are pretty boring, and she's one of those people that will start talking about something and if you have to do something else or talk to someone else, as a cook will do, she'll wait until you are able to listen again and start back up at the same place, and she is compelled to finish the story even if you aren't listening.
I realized that about her and sort of tuned her out, for the most part, although every time I walk by her I ogle her of course.
Covertly.
She's a landscaper. I've heard her say that the company she works for moved to the north part of town, and that they were building her a house up there so she could move and still work for them, or at least that is the impression I got from what she was saying and from the cook, who she talks to.
Well... since she and her company moved, we see less of her, but she still comes in about once a week. And it always makes me smile, because she's something to look at, you know, eye candy.
She came in today. I was having a good day at work, laughing a lot and joking around with one of the waitresses. Later, in the back, that waitress told me that the landscape lady had been asking if we were hiring. That her company had cut her hours drastically (well, it IS winter...) and that she said to the waitress "I can cook, I can wash dishes..."
And I was joking around saying "OMG, if she got hired, I'd work seven days a week, haha, I'd have to be here on my days off..."
Well then the waitress tells me that the plant lady is an alcoholic. That the waitress can smell serious booze on her breath whenever she walks by.
Vodka to be exact, she said.
Aw, man, to be in your thirties, alone, looking for a part time job washing dishes to make ends meet.
I know your pain, plant lady.
Makes me want to reach out to her about her alcohol abuse. I wouldn't know how to approach her about it.
I'd never smelled it on her... but I trust the waitress' sense of smell. The cook says he's smelled it too.. poor gal.