Sunday afternoon: Lunch at the Greek Isle

[fh_outtatown]

Comments

[medusae_x]

A waiter wearing a toga and gold sandals came over, smiling. "Would you like to follow me to a table?"

Duce opened her mouth to retort with something scathing, but snapped her mouth shut and grimly nodded. She darn near stalked behind the waiter to the table.

[master_of_fear]

Jonathan follows behind looking amused at everything. Last night has pus him in an excellent mood, despite being thrown out.

"Duce, are you trying to tell me that all the television and movies I watched as a child is a lie?" he asks in mock horror.

[medusae_x]

Duce shoots him a glower, "No, just extremely wrong era. This is all," she waves a hand around, and sniffs derisively, "far too Roman."

Sliding into a seat, she looks at the buffet and the menu. "Saginaki," she just about snaps at the waiter. The waiter blinks, "Um. Would you like drinks first, m'am?" Duce snorts, "Yes, but you're unlikely to serve me alcohol. Water will do. Cheese. Fire. Soonest. Use the little wings on your sandals to bring me my cheesey flambed goodness."

[master_of_fear]

"I'll have what she's having," Jonathan tells the waiter.

Turning to Duce he says, "I hope whatever you ordered is good, cause I'd hate to have ordered like, fish oil stew or something equally revolting. And hey, who doesn't love the Romans? You know... aside from the Christians and all the people in Carthage."