Sorry about being all… Idle guys. Finals are coming up, and that means an AP, three regents… It also apparently means my biology teacher's gonna be giving me about three packets a week. Oh joyous of days, yeah? So, uh, accept my… Apology?
"Uh…" Dean let himself trail off on that note, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the table and looking over the menu. "I'll take the…"
"He'll, uh, he'll be a little while longer." Sam explained to the waitress, offering a small smile in apology.
"I'll come back then." She replied, turning around and walking away, back into the kitchen with the others. Sam nodded to her receding back and then turned to Dean. He gave him an annoyed glance, one that went unnoticed by his older brother, who was still staring intently at the menu. Next to him, Castiel sat with a straight face, watching everything going on in the steak house, watching the television and then the family at the table behind them, and then peeking across the room to the bar. He appeared to be taking it all in in as little time as possible. It wasn't surprising that he hadn't ordered anything, he didn't really need to eat, but it must have been at least a little weird for the waitress.
"Hurry up, Dean. My food's going to get here, and you're still going to have to wait for yours!" Sam scolded, and Dean looked up from his scanning. He had that look on. That, 'Sammy, Sammy. Poor, uneducated Sammy' look. Sam prepared himself for the little rant he knew was coming.
"Sam, you can't just rush these things! How would I know what I want if I just chose something random off the menu? I need to read it over thoroughly, or else when something I order gets here I'll have decided I actually wanted something else. But then I couldn't get it!" Dean explained, and Castiel looked over at him in confusion.
"Does it actually make that much of a difference? You wanted it a second ago when you ordered it, why don't you just eat it?" Sam retorted, jabbing at the tabletop with one finger and pointing his brother in the face with the other.
"Yes! If I get something, and then decide I really want something else—something that tastes better—I wouldn't want to eat what I ordered anymore!"
"Then just get a burger or something! We need to get back on the road, Dean!" Sam shot back.
"You can't just order a burger from a steak house, Sam! That's like you ordering a salad at McDonald's!" was Dean's comeback. Cas had stopped paying attention again, deciding instead to watch the football game on the television over the bar. Sam groaned in exasperation.
"But I order salad from McDonald's all the time, Dean! And so do a lot of other people!"
"Yeah, and it makes you look like a little bitch!" Dean smirked, looking back to his menu. Completely absorbed in it again, he didn't notice the waitress come back to their table. She carried Sam's order to him, and dropped it onto the table. Looking back in Dean's direction, she smiled.
"Have you decided what you want to order, Sir?" She asked, pulling the notepad from her apron and a pen from behind her ear. She held it in the ready position, looking down at him expectantly. Dean held up a finger, and then shouted something that was hard to make out when he finally found what he was looking for. Cas looked up at him again, startled by his outburst.
"Yeah! Bring me some baby back ribs!" He licked his lips for dramatic effect and handed the menu over to the waitress, who nodded and scribbled her shorthand onto the paper.
"Coming right up!" She chirped, rushing back to the kitchen.
"See Sammy, wish you'd waited a little longer and found something good, right?" Dean smirked at his brother and his mushroom chowder. Sam rolled his eyes, contemplating tossing the full bowl at his brother's head.
"Dean," Castiel began, catching both brothers' attention. "Why would you want to eat an infant's ribs?"
Aaaaaaaand that's it.