Jean and Garrison: Street Meets
Sep. 8th, 2023 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_phoenix posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logs Jean and Garrison go to Central Park and have a hot dog.
Jean took a sip of her iced apple crisp chai latte as they strolled through Central Park. Peering over the top of it, she caught his look and smirked.
"Yes, I'm basic. No judging."
"You know me. Any drink that is named after a dessert and needs three languages to order is way too fussy." He'd opted for an espresso and had already finished it, tossing it into the garbage as they passed with a perfect arc. "What brought you into the city today?"
"Volunteering at the Community Center in District X. I was teaching a CPR and first aid class," she glanced around. "Thought I'd take a stroll in the park before I left. Always enjoyed the buskers."
"You have a level of music tolerance rarely seen in this city, it seems. But I'm game. There's a hot dog vendor up in that area. I can always use street meat."
Jean rolled her eyes. "Street Meat sounds like a bad porn movie," she said with a smirk.
"And the buskers aren't all bad. I caught a very nice violin solo over by 86th street just before he puked."
"I remember that happening at the last symphony performance I attended." He said archly. "And street meat is the only proper term for a hot dog or sausage bought from a cart. Anything else is just pretensions and fripperies. Or something."
"Indubitably," Jean said, heading toward the section he had nodded toward. "There is a fantastic gyro guy near the Clairmont. Not sure if he's still around. I'll have to see when I check in on Georgia and the other nurses."
"The halal carts are also street meat. So are the pretzels." He shrugged when Jean looked at him. "I don't make the rules. I just eat the food."
"Who am I to argue with 8.5 million New Yorkers? And one Canadian," Jean said. She scanned the park as it came up from the street. "It's a beautiful day, which means everyone will be out." She drew in a breath.
"This will be fine."
"You ok?" Kane paused, touching her arm. "I mean, we don't need to get into the crowd."
Jean shook her head. "Thanks. It's good right now. I'll see how it goes. If it gets to be too much we bail and loiter around an emptier part of the park?"
"Sure. I haven't been arrested for swimming in the reservoir in, like, weeks." He joked to her.
"Ah, that's bringing back memories of the great trophy recovery of...I don't even remember when," Jean grinned. "We should probably grab the hot dogs first. If we're lucky they'll still have some chips left."
"Don't get me wrong. Running through the woods for miles with you while in our underwear was fun but man... not looking to repeat that." Kane steered them towards a vendor and ordered a pair of dogs, as well as chips for Jean. He just needed the hotdog, rummaging in the condiments to make sure they had sauerkraut.
"It was....vaguely fun," Jean mused. She watched him as he searched, plucking out ketchup and mustard for her own hot dog, then drizzled them on her hot dogs. "I know some people are fans of sauerkraut on their hot dogs but..it's too much for me. It reminds me of spicy lettuce."
"It's what happens when you make lettuce a pickle. That's an upgrade." Kane said as he collected his dog; mustard, olives, pickles and sauerkraut. Piled high. He gave her a grin before taking a large bite.
Jean quirked an eyebrow at him, somewhere between vaguely impressed and grossed out. "I mean, if I knew you wanted that much sour things we could have just stopped by a bodega and got a bottle of vinegar," she said with a laugh.
"Truly a cast iron stomach."
"Hey, different strokes for different folks, Red. And yeah, I can eat anything. Malt vinegar on fries? All day, lady." He said, before another bite.
Jean fake gagged. "More for you then," she said with a smirk, taking a bite of her own significantly less mountain-sized hot dog. "Especially the olives and sauerkraut. The pickles I'm fine with, just on a sandwich."
"See, you're missing out. The range of condiments covers the taste of the hot dog." Kane settled down on the bench. "But I appreciate the company, Doc. Even if it is for this kind of fine cuisine."
Watching the people pass, Jean smiled. "Me too."
Jean took a sip of her iced apple crisp chai latte as they strolled through Central Park. Peering over the top of it, she caught his look and smirked.
"Yes, I'm basic. No judging."
"You know me. Any drink that is named after a dessert and needs three languages to order is way too fussy." He'd opted for an espresso and had already finished it, tossing it into the garbage as they passed with a perfect arc. "What brought you into the city today?"
"Volunteering at the Community Center in District X. I was teaching a CPR and first aid class," she glanced around. "Thought I'd take a stroll in the park before I left. Always enjoyed the buskers."
"You have a level of music tolerance rarely seen in this city, it seems. But I'm game. There's a hot dog vendor up in that area. I can always use street meat."
Jean rolled her eyes. "Street Meat sounds like a bad porn movie," she said with a smirk.
"And the buskers aren't all bad. I caught a very nice violin solo over by 86th street just before he puked."
"I remember that happening at the last symphony performance I attended." He said archly. "And street meat is the only proper term for a hot dog or sausage bought from a cart. Anything else is just pretensions and fripperies. Or something."
"Indubitably," Jean said, heading toward the section he had nodded toward. "There is a fantastic gyro guy near the Clairmont. Not sure if he's still around. I'll have to see when I check in on Georgia and the other nurses."
"The halal carts are also street meat. So are the pretzels." He shrugged when Jean looked at him. "I don't make the rules. I just eat the food."
"Who am I to argue with 8.5 million New Yorkers? And one Canadian," Jean said. She scanned the park as it came up from the street. "It's a beautiful day, which means everyone will be out." She drew in a breath.
"This will be fine."
"You ok?" Kane paused, touching her arm. "I mean, we don't need to get into the crowd."
Jean shook her head. "Thanks. It's good right now. I'll see how it goes. If it gets to be too much we bail and loiter around an emptier part of the park?"
"Sure. I haven't been arrested for swimming in the reservoir in, like, weeks." He joked to her.
"Ah, that's bringing back memories of the great trophy recovery of...I don't even remember when," Jean grinned. "We should probably grab the hot dogs first. If we're lucky they'll still have some chips left."
"Don't get me wrong. Running through the woods for miles with you while in our underwear was fun but man... not looking to repeat that." Kane steered them towards a vendor and ordered a pair of dogs, as well as chips for Jean. He just needed the hotdog, rummaging in the condiments to make sure they had sauerkraut.
"It was....vaguely fun," Jean mused. She watched him as he searched, plucking out ketchup and mustard for her own hot dog, then drizzled them on her hot dogs. "I know some people are fans of sauerkraut on their hot dogs but..it's too much for me. It reminds me of spicy lettuce."
"It's what happens when you make lettuce a pickle. That's an upgrade." Kane said as he collected his dog; mustard, olives, pickles and sauerkraut. Piled high. He gave her a grin before taking a large bite.
Jean quirked an eyebrow at him, somewhere between vaguely impressed and grossed out. "I mean, if I knew you wanted that much sour things we could have just stopped by a bodega and got a bottle of vinegar," she said with a laugh.
"Truly a cast iron stomach."
"Hey, different strokes for different folks, Red. And yeah, I can eat anything. Malt vinegar on fries? All day, lady." He said, before another bite.
Jean fake gagged. "More for you then," she said with a smirk, taking a bite of her own significantly less mountain-sized hot dog. "Especially the olives and sauerkraut. The pickles I'm fine with, just on a sandwich."
"See, you're missing out. The range of condiments covers the taste of the hot dog." Kane settled down on the bench. "But I appreciate the company, Doc. Even if it is for this kind of fine cuisine."
Watching the people pass, Jean smiled. "Me too."
