milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's cold but sunny outside, and Dinah is behind the bar again, pouring out orange juices.

Breakfast Specials
Buttermilk Pancakes - in the shape of your choice.
Cowboy Frittata
Half a Grapefruit

"What can I getcha?"

[OOC: Running home! Will pick up all threads]

He raises an eyebrow again and peers at the plate.

"I'm not even sure I want to eat something shaped like..." he holds up a short, fat dino-cake, "Barney."

There might be a sneer, even a growl.

Dinah's smile becomes a little rueful, but she sighs it away. "Suit yourself then. Can I getcha anything else?"

"Coffee? As long as it doesn't look like Barney."

He has issues with purple dino's that sing.

Doesn't everyone?

"Sure thing, hon," she says, and pours him a cup of fresh brew. "How do you take it?"

He looks from the coffee to her, back to the coffee.

"How do I take what?"

Aye, but the euphemisms are completely lost on him. Forgive, for he is but eight... sort of.

"Your coffee, sugar," she explains patiently. "Cream, sugar?"

"Oh."

He blinks a couple times.

"A little milk, please. Thank you."

"Milk I can do," she says, pouring a small amount in from a delicate milk jug.

"So how long have you been coming here?"

He watches her pour the milk.

"Long enough that I should have known what you meant, but I don't think I'm quite awake yet."

"Oh don't you worry about it, Sugar," Dinah insists. "It's still early."

"Yeah."

He sips the coffee.

"Do you have anything that isn't shaped like Barney, to eat?"

B/c yeah, he's actually hungry - just needed the coffee to realize this.

"Sure I do," she says brightly. "I have any number of pancake molds for other shapes, Or a frittata or anything else?

"What's a frittata?"

And he doesn't want to be asking so many questions, but... he doesn't get out much.

"It's a big fluffy omelette," Dinah explains. "With sausage and onion and cheese. Would you like to try it?"

He actually makes a face that indicates that he would eat that and he tries not to salivate at the thought.

"Yes, please." He nods, not too eagerly though - b/c that's not cool.

"You just wait right here, then, I have some warm in the kitchen," Dinah says, and pushes herself away from the bar, glidig back in from the kitchen moments later with a plate of the fluffy omelette.

"There you go, sugar."

"Thanks."

He only studies it for a moment before he digs in.

Then he's much too busy eating to say much else. He's not being rude; he's just hungry.

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