Voice of Desirae Part 5
NoV: Well, I would have updated sooner, but you know the rules. At least one review if you want me to keep going.
Bisho: She's a very strict author/tyrant.
NoV: No, Bisho! That's spokesbouncer.
Bisho: OH......I always forget.
Xelloss: Like me! I'm a general priest!
NoV: What are you doing here? This isn't your filter....
Xelloss: It's not Bisho's either. (raises eyebrow)
NoV: Bisho is a prisoner of war.
Bisho: OH, sure. Use THAT old excuse.
NoV: Onward!!
Desirae practically had to drag Malcolm into the restaurant. He was still leery about the quality and location of the small bistro.
As soon as she entered the very small room, she was greeted by a man possibly her own age standing behind the counter. "Yo, Desi!" he exclaimed, extending a hand for a high-five. "'Sup?"
Malcolm, following closely behind her, vaguely noticed that there were only three tables in the dining area, and a kitchen behind the counter that was even smaller. "Desi?" he wondered aloud. "Do you....like to be called Desi?"
Desirae nodded her approval and made an "O" with her fingers, signaling her okay.
"All right, well, I know what the beautiful young lady will be having," the clerk announced, scribbling something on a notepad, "so, what about you, sir?"
Malcolm quickly scanned the menu crudely hanging from the ceiling. "Um.....I'll have an Italian calzone."
"Okay, sir, and what to drink with that?"
"God.....do you happen to have any scotch?"
"No sir, we do not serve alcohol here."
Of course, you don't, Malcolm thought, but said, "Ice water, it is, then."
"That'll be $18.35, sir," the clerk said, making the register ding a few times.
"Do you take plastic?" Malcolm asked, pulling out a credit card.
"No, sir, just paper."
Malcolm, fed up with all the "sirs" that seemed to him to be sarcastic, tossed a twenty onto the counter and meekly followed Desirae toward a dimly- lit table.
"Desi," he said, hiding his discord and disappointment of her choice of restaurants, "if the food's half as good as the service, I'll be a happy man."
Desirae smiled her impish smile and gingerly touched his face, showing her delight of his approval.
NoV: Part five DONE!! WEEE!
Xelloss: Don't get TOO excited! Remember thy blood pressure!!
Bisho: I'll get the thermometer!
N&X: -.-0
NoV: Well, I would have updated sooner, but you know the rules. At least one review if you want me to keep going.
Bisho: She's a very strict author/tyrant.
NoV: No, Bisho! That's spokesbouncer.
Bisho: OH......I always forget.
Xelloss: Like me! I'm a general priest!
NoV: What are you doing here? This isn't your filter....
Xelloss: It's not Bisho's either. (raises eyebrow)
NoV: Bisho is a prisoner of war.
Bisho: OH, sure. Use THAT old excuse.
NoV: Onward!!
Desirae practically had to drag Malcolm into the restaurant. He was still leery about the quality and location of the small bistro.
As soon as she entered the very small room, she was greeted by a man possibly her own age standing behind the counter. "Yo, Desi!" he exclaimed, extending a hand for a high-five. "'Sup?"
Malcolm, following closely behind her, vaguely noticed that there were only three tables in the dining area, and a kitchen behind the counter that was even smaller. "Desi?" he wondered aloud. "Do you....like to be called Desi?"
Desirae nodded her approval and made an "O" with her fingers, signaling her okay.
"All right, well, I know what the beautiful young lady will be having," the clerk announced, scribbling something on a notepad, "so, what about you, sir?"
Malcolm quickly scanned the menu crudely hanging from the ceiling. "Um.....I'll have an Italian calzone."
"Okay, sir, and what to drink with that?"
"God.....do you happen to have any scotch?"
"No sir, we do not serve alcohol here."
Of course, you don't, Malcolm thought, but said, "Ice water, it is, then."
"That'll be $18.35, sir," the clerk said, making the register ding a few times.
"Do you take plastic?" Malcolm asked, pulling out a credit card.
"No, sir, just paper."
Malcolm, fed up with all the "sirs" that seemed to him to be sarcastic, tossed a twenty onto the counter and meekly followed Desirae toward a dimly- lit table.
"Desi," he said, hiding his discord and disappointment of her choice of restaurants, "if the food's half as good as the service, I'll be a happy man."
Desirae smiled her impish smile and gingerly touched his face, showing her delight of his approval.
NoV: Part five DONE!! WEEE!
Xelloss: Don't get TOO excited! Remember thy blood pressure!!
Bisho: I'll get the thermometer!
N&X: -.-0