>>5360308From all the choices offered, there's something about The Clumsies that sticks out to you, because it doesn't seem like your typical, run-of-the-mill burger joint. And it's usually those kinds of atypical restaurants that usually have the good stuff, like actual menus and hot, freshly-cooked meals.
"Let's try The Clumsies!" You exclaim, pointing to the image on the sign-- a simple outline of a staircase, with one of the letters askew.
It takes a couple of minutes of searching before Bernard zeroes in on the restaurant-in-question, the two of you ending up on the far edge of the parking lot. Shifting out of your fish form, you attempt to brush all the dirt and leaves off your person--Bernard doing the same beside you-- because it'd do either of you no good if you were mistaken for a couple of hoodlums.
When the two of you look somewhat passable for the general public, you emerge from the trees in hopes that people will just think you're just a couple of campers returning back from an outing-- unfortunate campers who didn't think to bring a change of clothes.
The cool rush of an air-conditioner hits you as soon as you step through the threshold, and you're met with the sight of a clean, well-kept bar that you wouldn't have expected from such a diminutive-looking exterior; but looks can be deceiving, and The Clumsies is no exception.
Sidling up to the bar counter, you can feel the eyes upon your back, which you and Bernard pointedly ignore. Either it's because the two of you are visibly younger than the general crowd, or the two of you really do look that bad.
Well, at least you're less likely to get mugged if you look like shit, not that any muggers would stand a chance against either you or Bernard.
"You gettin' anythin,' Ellie?" Bernard asks, paging through his own menu. The two of you had picked a seat at the edge where no one else had been sitting.
"I'll get something and give it to you." You tell him because, even if you can't eat, you'd rather not be the odd-one-out without any food.
"Yeah, I getcha." Bernard understands. "Howabout the tacos with gyros? Those sound pretty neat!" He suggests, pointing to the item on the menu. No sooner do you agree than does Bernard wave down the barkeep so he can order his fare.
"...I'll have the doner kebab, fries, and the mac and cheese-- oh, and some taco gyros for the lady!" He makes a motion to you. Unused to being called 'the lady,' you find yourself a bit flattered at being referred to as that.
"Coming right up," the barkeeper responds, writing down the order on their notepad and disappearing from sight. Guess Bernard wasn't kidding when he said he was starving...
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