Garrison Kane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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xp_logs2024-09-03 12:26 pm
xp_dominion) wrote in xp_logs2024-09-03 12:26 pm
Dixie Dead Shake - Log 4
The road trippers stop for lunch.
Other than Jubilee's attempts to brand each car with CB nicknames and using her phone to give updates out of 'Smokey and the Bandit', the trip had been pretty smooth so far. They'd fallen into a pattern of every three hours to change drivers and take a short break, and had eaten up the distance so far. Pulling in for an early dinner was the next break on the list. As they parked, Kane took a minute to check on the wolf and provide him dinner. Unfortunately, he couldn't let him out to stretch while they were eating; his badge solved a lot of problems, but dealing with the off chance of animal control being called on him was too risky. Fortunately, the wolf seemed content to eat and stretch out on the back seat floor to snooze with the window cracked. Anyone trying to steal the car would be in for a bad time.
So he was last to walk in, even as the others had negotiated an eight top from several other tables pushed together. They were just handing out menus when he sat down.
Marie-Ange flipped the menu pages back and forth, glancing at her travel companions between page turns, and then gave up with a beleaguered sigh. "This is one of those places that had accidentally served a child a margarita in a bendy straw cup." Even in broken-in travel clothes, jeans and a top and heeled boots she looked a little out of place with her stiff posture. "I require all of you to swear on your lives, you have never seen me eat a single curly fry. Jubilee, you are now in a secret society of people who know I eat diner nachos. If you betray me, I am assigning you to Gary, Indiana forever." A pause. "No, wait, you would take over the criminal enterprises. I will send you somewhere with no crime. A suburb in Utah."
"Gotta watch out for those Mormons," Jean mused. "They seem innocent and then...Oooh. Chicken and waffles." She tapped the menu with interest.
"And then they take it up the butt, or do soaking, which Jubes, don't google it or you're gonna be giggling for hours." Rogue's eyes twinkled, knowing Jubilee wouldn't be able to resist. "And MA -- really, a margarita? This place can't afford a blender. I'm with Jean, gotta order fried food and fried food only if you don't want a tummy ache."
“Dude, I am not looking that up till we’re back in the car,” Jubilee noted, knowing that anything Rogue told her not to look at was gonna be worth the effort. “I am totally getting a Margarita with a bendy straw.”
"You know, stopping for food occasionally means food, eh?" Kane said. "Maybe just focus on... food." He was about to say what you can put in your mouth and his mind rebelled. "I'm going to get the chicken fried steak."
"Tell me we haven't ordered yet." Amanda came back to the table from the direction of the bathroom and slid into the empty seat left. "Also, they definitely need more imaginative graffiti in the ladies, so I left some." The witch always carried a magic marker with her for spell circles, but she also liked to entertain herself with the odd embellishment to the usual "X & Y Foreva" and "For a good time call...". She grabbed a menu and hastily flipped through it. "We don't have any vegetarians here, do we? If we do, you're fucked. Everything here has gravy on it."
"Fried chicken. Gravy. Meatballs. Gravy. Hamburger, gravy." Marie-Ange flipped her menu pages back and forth. "Salad. With gravy."
She set the menu down. "I am going to have pancakes, and stolen french fries. Those taste better."
"Isn't everything better stolen?" Felicia asked, already not listening to the answer, and instead smiled charmingly as the poor waitress approached them, moving to hold her chin in her hand with a disarming smile. "Hi there."
"I think we're ready." Kane said, and deployed a remarkable about of Canadian-ness to jolly along their orders for the poor woman in a relatively painful fashion. He even managed to sidestep the 'baby fresh greens' request by explaining that the house salad was iceburg lettuce with a little grated carrot and a tomato wedge so she didn't have to. He stuck with his chicken fried steak, comfortable that it would be at least reliably fried if nothing else.
"Y'know, this is nice. It reminds me of being on the road with Logan... we usually only eat breakfast cuz we ain't really sandwich and soup people, and dinner should always be some sort of meat over a fire, but anyways, one time, we go to this place. Now, this here restaurant is 5 star compared to it, but we also like going to the worst of the worst because they may suck at food, but their coffee? On point. Our server was this ancient wizened woman who probably had existed since time itself, and smoked 2 packs a day since... literally everything we ordered, she glared. "We're out." Logan, course, he could smell they weren't and he just glared back. I drank my coffee while they argued over what kinda establishment it was .... anyways, I just told her we ain't picky, bring us whatever they got and what the cook felt like making." She grinned. "Y'all. That mo-fo brought us some warm milk and corn flakes. It was fantastic." She sighed happily. "I wanna have that little amount of fucks one day. We even paid. I left a tip."
“Dude, you should give no fucks now, life is like, way too short to care about anything some rando thinks or does. Unless you have to like, use them for info anyway. But that’s like different, and mostly then you’re not you anyway, you’re like their dream person which totally usually means some form of like deeply weird specifics in like regards to clothing. Don’t even get me started on the number of people who think I’m Japanese.”
Jubilee pulled the water jug towards her and poured several glasses worth before sharing them around. She finally sat back with a happy sigh and drank her own glass of water down. Something about being in a car always made her thirsty as hell.
"What? I thought you were Brazilian?" Kane said and nodded to her middle finger response. "OK, so our underwhelming food is likely coming so I need to ask the most important question. Who wants dessert?" He joked.
Other than Jubilee's attempts to brand each car with CB nicknames and using her phone to give updates out of 'Smokey and the Bandit', the trip had been pretty smooth so far. They'd fallen into a pattern of every three hours to change drivers and take a short break, and had eaten up the distance so far. Pulling in for an early dinner was the next break on the list. As they parked, Kane took a minute to check on the wolf and provide him dinner. Unfortunately, he couldn't let him out to stretch while they were eating; his badge solved a lot of problems, but dealing with the off chance of animal control being called on him was too risky. Fortunately, the wolf seemed content to eat and stretch out on the back seat floor to snooze with the window cracked. Anyone trying to steal the car would be in for a bad time.
So he was last to walk in, even as the others had negotiated an eight top from several other tables pushed together. They were just handing out menus when he sat down.
Marie-Ange flipped the menu pages back and forth, glancing at her travel companions between page turns, and then gave up with a beleaguered sigh. "This is one of those places that had accidentally served a child a margarita in a bendy straw cup." Even in broken-in travel clothes, jeans and a top and heeled boots she looked a little out of place with her stiff posture. "I require all of you to swear on your lives, you have never seen me eat a single curly fry. Jubilee, you are now in a secret society of people who know I eat diner nachos. If you betray me, I am assigning you to Gary, Indiana forever." A pause. "No, wait, you would take over the criminal enterprises. I will send you somewhere with no crime. A suburb in Utah."
"Gotta watch out for those Mormons," Jean mused. "They seem innocent and then...Oooh. Chicken and waffles." She tapped the menu with interest.
"And then they take it up the butt, or do soaking, which Jubes, don't google it or you're gonna be giggling for hours." Rogue's eyes twinkled, knowing Jubilee wouldn't be able to resist. "And MA -- really, a margarita? This place can't afford a blender. I'm with Jean, gotta order fried food and fried food only if you don't want a tummy ache."
“Dude, I am not looking that up till we’re back in the car,” Jubilee noted, knowing that anything Rogue told her not to look at was gonna be worth the effort. “I am totally getting a Margarita with a bendy straw.”
"You know, stopping for food occasionally means food, eh?" Kane said. "Maybe just focus on... food." He was about to say what you can put in your mouth and his mind rebelled. "I'm going to get the chicken fried steak."
"Tell me we haven't ordered yet." Amanda came back to the table from the direction of the bathroom and slid into the empty seat left. "Also, they definitely need more imaginative graffiti in the ladies, so I left some." The witch always carried a magic marker with her for spell circles, but she also liked to entertain herself with the odd embellishment to the usual "X & Y Foreva" and "For a good time call...". She grabbed a menu and hastily flipped through it. "We don't have any vegetarians here, do we? If we do, you're fucked. Everything here has gravy on it."
"Fried chicken. Gravy. Meatballs. Gravy. Hamburger, gravy." Marie-Ange flipped her menu pages back and forth. "Salad. With gravy."
She set the menu down. "I am going to have pancakes, and stolen french fries. Those taste better."
"Isn't everything better stolen?" Felicia asked, already not listening to the answer, and instead smiled charmingly as the poor waitress approached them, moving to hold her chin in her hand with a disarming smile. "Hi there."
"I think we're ready." Kane said, and deployed a remarkable about of Canadian-ness to jolly along their orders for the poor woman in a relatively painful fashion. He even managed to sidestep the 'baby fresh greens' request by explaining that the house salad was iceburg lettuce with a little grated carrot and a tomato wedge so she didn't have to. He stuck with his chicken fried steak, comfortable that it would be at least reliably fried if nothing else.
"Y'know, this is nice. It reminds me of being on the road with Logan... we usually only eat breakfast cuz we ain't really sandwich and soup people, and dinner should always be some sort of meat over a fire, but anyways, one time, we go to this place. Now, this here restaurant is 5 star compared to it, but we also like going to the worst of the worst because they may suck at food, but their coffee? On point. Our server was this ancient wizened woman who probably had existed since time itself, and smoked 2 packs a day since... literally everything we ordered, she glared. "We're out." Logan, course, he could smell they weren't and he just glared back. I drank my coffee while they argued over what kinda establishment it was .... anyways, I just told her we ain't picky, bring us whatever they got and what the cook felt like making." She grinned. "Y'all. That mo-fo brought us some warm milk and corn flakes. It was fantastic." She sighed happily. "I wanna have that little amount of fucks one day. We even paid. I left a tip."
“Dude, you should give no fucks now, life is like, way too short to care about anything some rando thinks or does. Unless you have to like, use them for info anyway. But that’s like different, and mostly then you’re not you anyway, you’re like their dream person which totally usually means some form of like deeply weird specifics in like regards to clothing. Don’t even get me started on the number of people who think I’m Japanese.”
Jubilee pulled the water jug towards her and poured several glasses worth before sharing them around. She finally sat back with a happy sigh and drank her own glass of water down. Something about being in a car always made her thirsty as hell.
"What? I thought you were Brazilian?" Kane said and nodded to her middle finger response. "OK, so our underwhelming food is likely coming so I need to ask the most important question. Who wants dessert?" He joked.
no subject
"a secret society of people who know I eat diner nachos" - the most prosaic of secret societies.