Yeah, I will. Probably from the sole restaurant in town.
[It's definitely not the only one, but it's not like there's a restaurant on every block. They're lucky to have that one in reasonable walking distance, compared to the 300 saloons just on that one block. No one wants to sit down with their families, they're all cooking dinner in their fancy houses.
Not Ain, who doesn't own property and can't really cook. Nope, he's headed right to that restaurant, up to the counter where the nice waitress asks to sit him down, and he says very quietly,]
Can I actually get something boxed? My darling husband, [eugh,] spent all night drinking, and I'm looking for something light on the stomach...
[This girl is So sympathetic to him. Like oh yes of course darling my husband did the same thing at the saloon (this is not normal, y'all) just last week, here have a seat let me get you a glass of water, do you want anything too? And Ain says yes he does he'd like some sickly sweet flapjacks if she could, thank you you're a doll.
And then Ain comes back half an hour later with bacon (good for hangovers), eggs, and so many fucking hashbrowns and croissants because that's also a hangover cure. Ain said light and she said no honey you're gonna get the fucking handover help. In a cute little disposable box too. I don't know if they had to-go boxes back then but it would be dumb if they didn't so.
He plops the food on the nightstand.]
The restaurant in the middle of town seems pretty good. The waitress was real understanding when I said "hangover food". [Ain didn't say those words.] This is all yours.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-05-28 03:34 am (UTC)[It's definitely not the only one, but it's not like there's a restaurant on every block. They're lucky to have that one in reasonable walking distance, compared to the 300 saloons just on that one block. No one wants to sit down with their families, they're all cooking dinner in their fancy houses.
Not Ain, who doesn't own property and can't really cook. Nope, he's headed right to that restaurant, up to the counter where the nice waitress asks to sit him down, and he says very quietly,]
Can I actually get something boxed? My darling husband, [eugh,] spent all night drinking, and I'm looking for something light on the stomach...
[This girl is So sympathetic to him. Like oh yes of course darling my husband did the same thing at the saloon (this is not normal, y'all) just last week, here have a seat let me get you a glass of water, do you want anything too? And Ain says yes he does he'd like some sickly sweet flapjacks if she could, thank you you're a doll.
And then Ain comes back half an hour later with bacon (good for hangovers), eggs, and so many fucking hashbrowns and croissants because that's also a hangover cure. Ain said light and she said no honey you're gonna get the fucking handover help. In a cute little disposable box too. I don't know if they had to-go boxes back then but it would be dumb if they didn't so.
He plops the food on the nightstand.]
The restaurant in the middle of town seems pretty good. The waitress was real understanding when I said "hangover food". [Ain didn't say those words.] This is all yours.