Ketchup Counts As A Vegetable Serving

Participants:

adisa_icon.gif devon_icon.gif

Scene Title Ketchup Counts As A Vegetable Serving
Synopsis When hitting up a diner for lunch, it's not always best to be too friendly.
Date January 22, 2011

The Nite Owl


It's around lunch time and Adisa has been out job hunting. Despite, perhaps, popular belief in her family, she's not all about clothes shopping. Occasionally she does take on a little responsibility. At least to the point of actually trying to find a job. The success of said trying is yet to be seen, however. Making her way into the diner, resume filled purse hitched over her shoulder, she smiles as she looks around. "Well…isn't this place quaint." Making her way to a free booth, she sits herself down and waits for a menu. Once received, she starts looking through it, a serious look on her face. "I'm like, totally going to have to hit the gym after this. But I like, totally don't care. I haven't had good diner food in like, such a long time." She chirps to herself.

The door chimes to announce another patron, not quite on Adisa's heels. Lunch time often proves busy for the diner, good food and friendly service well worth the price of admission. But this new arival is a one Devon Clendaniel. Though he works a steady job, it's of the non paying Intern variety, and he's had to dip into his own coffers or risk one of his Aunt Milly's egg salad sandwiches.

Dressed today in blue jeans and a black peacoat over a gray and blue striped polo shirt, Dev pauses near the entrance in search of an empty seat. As luck would have it, there's one just beside Adisa's chosen table. Fixing a grin to his face at such luck as finding a seat at lunchtime, the teenager all but swaggers to the empty table to seat himself.

Taking off her plaid, pinkish red and black jacket with frilled front, only to show her long sleeved, black and white stripped shirt. She frowns at the menu. "What to have? What…to have? I wonder what's good here." She doesn't quite go to diners that often, so sometimes the simple joys of a plain burger and fries alludes her.

"Their BLT's are the best," Devon offers over his unsolicited opinion as he picks up the menu from his table. A casual glance and a friendly grin are offered toward Adisa before the boy focuses on his own lunch desires. BLT sounds good, because bacon is good. But not quite what the boy is feeling today.

Adisa tilts her head. "The BLT? I dunno…BLTs are like…super extra fatty. With the mayo and like, the bacon. The lettuce and tomato kinda counteracts it, but kinda not." She explains. Though she's not expecting anything less from diner food. "Maybe the chicken fingers. Are the chicken fingers like, any good?" She asks of Devon. "I like, totally haven't had good chicken fingers in a super long time."

"They're just as 'super extra fatty' as the BLT, since they're fried." Devon lowers his menu, having decided on his lunch for the day, and removes his coat. "Their salads aren't half bad, though, if you're all sorts of health conscience. —Actually everything here is pretty good." It's one of the last standing old school diners in the city. That practically touts having the best food compared to anything from a chain organization, right?

"But chicken is chicken. Not bacon. Bacon is always fatty. Only the fried part of the chicken is fatty." That's Adisa's logic, and she's sticking to it. "I think I'm gonna go for the chicken fingers." She states in a a matter-of-fact voice, placing down her own menu. "And lemonade…yeah. Lemonade. That sounds like…totally something good to drink right now. Water is sooooo this morning."

Devon can't help but chuckle at the logic. Sounds reasonable enough in his mind, considering you won't find anything absolutely healthy anywhere on the menu. Except for the water. Even the salads are questionably higher in the caloric values. "You really can't go wrong with whatever you order here," he surmises. And then, when the waitress comes over, Dev waves her toward Adisa's table first. Ladie's first, after all.

With a little smile, Adisa nods. "Seeing as this is my first time here, I'd like, totally not know. But I'll try to like, take your word for it." To the arriving waitress, she says, "I'll like, have the chicken fingers. Can the fries like…not be salted, please? Thank you. And a lemonade to drink." She hands her menu to the waitress and then pulls out her cell phone, appearing to check something on it.

With a small shrug, Dev smiles and shakes his head. He thinks the food here is the best there is. Once it's his turn for an order, he graces the waitress with a grin. "I'd like… the club sandwich, and a cup of the day's soup, please. With a Coke." Another smile and a nod to the waitress before she moves off to put in orders and bring back drinks. Leaning back, the boy drums his fingers against the table top, occasionally glancing toward Adisa. More out of curiosity, honest.

Adisa finishing off on her phone, she slips it back into her pocket and glances sidelong toward Devon. Is he glancing at her? Turning to look back toward him, she tilts her head slightly. "Ummm…can I like, totally help you with something?" He may be curious about her, but she's curious about why he's curious. She's gorgeous, she understands that. But that's no reason to keep glancing at her!

A friendly smile meets Adisa when she looks Devon's way, but nothing else. Not until she speaks anyway. But he saves face, looking unabashed and just giving a shake of his head in response. "Sorry," he says easily enough. "You just don't seem the type to come into diners at all. —I'm Devon, by the way."

With a shrug, Adisa shakes her head. "And why wouldn't I be the kind to come in here? I'll like, have you totally know that like, I love coming to diners and go to them like…a bunch." Okay, that's a bit of a small lie. But she does go to them occasionally. "I'm like, Adisa." She says with a little smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh really." Devon affects a casual shrug then turns a smile on to the waitress as she brings drinks. Lemonade for Adisa and Coke for himself. Poking the straw into the carbonated drink, the boy sends another glance in Adisa's direction. "You just seem like… there's more important things than eating in a place like this. You look more like a… steakhouse or surf and turf kind of girl."

Taking a sip of her drink, Adisa just staaaares at Devon. "I'll have you know, that like, I totally love diners." She'll not have people saying that she doesn't seem 'the type'. No siree bob! "Though, you know, I like, totally do love steakhouses and stuff too. Fancy places are awesome. But sometimes diners are like, just the place to go." Especially when you have no discernible source of disposable income.

Devon gulps down several swallows of his cola, paying absolutely no mind to being stared at. You could even say he probably enjoys the attention. "Well, Adisa. We should look into randomly encountering each other at a steakhouse some time. Or, you know, something with a little more frills than a diner."

Adisa slowly sips on her drink, much slower that Devon is doing. "Ha. Do you like, know how many steakhouses there are in this city? There's like…" She pauses to think this over for a moment. "At least like…five. That makes things totally like, difficult." She may not be the brightest bulb in the batch, but she tries.

"That puts my chances at twenty percent." Devon grins and leans back in his chair. "Not bad odds, really, for a totally random and completely unplanned encounter."

Adisa rolls her eyes and shrugs, but grins a little bit. "Well, maybe. But…you still have like…a ton of percent of chances that I won't be at the same steakhouse." Assuming they're both going to a steakhouse at the same time. "Anyway, steakhouses aren't for me all of the time. Plus, I might be at some big, ol' fancy, ritzy like place. You never know."

And that, Devon, is why you should just keep quiet. The boy only manages to shrug and offer a defeated grin. Can't argue with that logic. Pulling his cola closer to him, Dev peers down into the caramel colored liquid, manipulating his straw so that the bubbles aren't given a chance to cling to the sides of the glass. Lunch can show up aaany time now.

And the food does, in fact, show up now. The club sandwich and soup for Devon, and Adisa's chicken fingers and fries. Taking the ketchup, she pours it over her food. "You know, ex-president Ronald Regan said that ketchup counted as a vegetable serving!" Adisa says proudly. It's about one of the only political discussions she can actually have, not otherwise being all too knowledgeable about the government of any era, including the current government.

Devon nods absently, deciding against speaking up at the oddity of that trivia. A tomato, which ketchup is made from, is a fruit and not a vegetable. But to point that out… Well, likely Adisa is already finding him to be a creep as it is. No need to make himself a geeky creep. He waves to the waitress as she comes by again, and requests a box to go.

Adisa continues to absently chatter away. While she doesn't actually find him a creep, it's not like people always talk to each other in diners and stuff. But hey, such is life. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't. "Well, anyway, I should probably let you go. I mean, you've probably got like, a total life or something. Anyway, nice meeting you, Devon."

"Pleasure's all mine," Devon responds. He glances up as a styrofoam clamshell is brought for his sandwich, and another styrofoam cup for his soup. The waitress was even kind enough to bring a bag to carry it all in. As he stands, the boy leaves cash enough to cover his lunch and a tip on the table, then turns a friendly smile over to Adisa. "Have a wonderful second half of the day."


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