A sign above the door read [Moonsilver Diner]... with a small
crescent moon
logo in
white
neon. How appropriate.
This entire city must be chock full of
references
to the ruling werewolves!
I pushed through the door, the little bell above
chiming
as it announced my entrance. A few steps in was all fine.
Then conversations
faltered
. Several heads turned to look at me.
I felt uncomfortably aware of my
present
appearance.
I'd hoped I'd picked somewhere not fancy enough to turn me away, but the backpack I'd taken from the hunter's cabin suddenly felt
conspicuous
over my shoulders. There were few people carrying
anything
on the streets in the first place.
Most women used small
single
shoulder bags that would not hold very much at all. Though some were quite
fashionable
...
I lifted my chin at their gazes, calling on every ounce of
etiquette training
I'd cultivated in my previous life. Let them stare at the
less
than perfect looking woman.
Princess Citra Lomdi, even if none of them knew it, could afford to be taken 'down a few pegs'. I am quite a
lenient
member of my family.
As I
postured
, a waitress approached in a work uniform - with the logo from outside pinned on her chest. Her smile seemed professional but her eyes showed how wary she was to even
speak
to me.
"Table for one?"
"Yes. Please."
I replied
politely
with a voice just as steady as hers. She then led me to a
small booth
near the back... away from everyone else.
Whether this was consideration for
my privacy
or that of the other patrons, I couldn't tell. Either way, I was grateful for a spot to not be
stared at
.
The flags of honor on my 'royal ship' could not
actuall
y go very much lower down the pegs, despite my own boast. Not without scuttling it and
making a scene
...
Which I just might have done, should I have been
pointed at
again. With someone whispering something to the side to someone else a
single
more time.
"Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu?"
She asked while placing a circle of absorbent cork and a laminated card printed with the menu on one side of the booth. However, I claimed the
corner seat
that allowed me to see the entire restaurant and
both exits
.
This forced her smile to
tighten
and shift the objects. I glanced at the offerings, immediately
overwhelmed
by the sheer number of options.
"Water for now. I'll need a moment to decide."
The waitress nodded and moved away. I know that generally speaking, she is
not a servant
... but the idea of those 'name tags' is quite interesting.
If I ever make it back to my world, I may see about
implementing
them. Even if most would never care to memorize their name, it may be a step up from the
overly subtle
aristocratic tells of 'whose servant was whose'.
Like wearing certain colored bracelets, headbands, or hairpins to
align yourself
with their faction. Which honestly sounds
a bit
like the 'gangs' in this world, now that I think on it...
Shaking away the trivial tangent that my
hunger fuzzy
brain set me upon, I focus on my order. Helene had never eaten at such an establishment, so her memories offered
little
guidance beyond basic recognition of some ingredients.
And what she saw on 'television' or read in books when she was very young.
When this 'Melissa' returned with the water, I had made up my mind. Or rather, my hunger had made it for me.
"I'll have the breakfast special with extra bacon."
I began by pointing to the item on the menu that had been given such a
salivating
image.
"And the club sandwich, extra meat. A side of fries. And..."
I hesitated only briefly - unsure of the
portion
sizes but expecting it to be less than I had eaten
all at once
in the forest.
"The cheeseburger with 'everything'."
The woman's brows had
risen
and remained there as I looked back up.
"That's... uhm, quite an order. You're sure?"
A decisive nod was ruined when I looked back down. My lip
quivered
when it saw another image. These picture representations of food are
pure evil
!
Clearly they are meant to
sell
more to people than they might really
need
.
"Please add the chicken pot pie."
She finished writing on a
small pad of paper
with a flourish, but instead of moving away to inform the cook, as my memories say should happen... she hesitated.
"Ma'am, I'll need to have you pay upfront for an order of this size."
The words struck me hard. No one would have dared ask a royal to
pay in advance
for a single meal. To imply we would
shirk our expenses
was defamation against the crown.
Even in the Duskpaw pack, no one questioned when members took food from the
communal
stores. I knew this case was neither of those things, but my voice still came out
sharper
than I intended.
"Excuse me?"
"It's just... store policy. For large orders from... new customers."
Her eyes uncomfortably flicked to my
dirty clothes
, then away.
The
implication
was clear: I looked like someone
without means
. Who would 'dine and dash'.
My first instinct was to stand and leave instead of
suffering
the insult. To find somewhere else that would show more
respect
.
But that
deflated
quickly. Not just because I was hungry. But because she was
right
.
If I had not obtained any money today, I may have even been forced to
consider
doing something like that, eventually. I'd like to think I would have made it a few days or sought...
alternative
routes.
Like going back to the forest to
hunt
something, if I had to. Which is why the practical part of me took control and reached for the
card
in my pocket.
"I understand. Where do I...?"
"Please, just remain seated. I'll bring the card reader over here."
She assured with relief
evident
in her voice. It was clear the whole ordeal was
stressful
for the one accusing me, as well.
When she returned with a slightly
bulky electronic device
, I watched carefully as she entered the total. The numbers made me blink.
This world's currency is still
somewhat confusing
to me. I haven't had enough time to really stop thinking about
comparative values
as they would be in my kingdom.
In any case, I'm certain that this is
no small amount
to the likes of the average Duskpaw. But much less expensive than some of the phone models that were
for sale
at that pawn shop.
So, I assumed Kyrie's card could
handle
it. If only I knew how to
use
it.
"How do I..."
Melissa reached for the item in my hand. I
narrowed my eyes
and she smiled
awkwardly
until I let go.
"You just insert the chip end like this. Then enter your PIN if it asks for one."
She demonstrated with a gentle motion so I could follow along. The
machine beeped
once, then displayed "Approved" on its
backlit screen
.
With that, the waitress - and her
demeanor
- shifted instantly.
"Your food will be out as soon as possible."
Her smile became warmer, more
intentionally
pleasing. Which only makes sense.
She is sure I am an actual patron and
not a thief
, so she can afford to be less wary and... seek more 'tips'.
More than the 'required gratuity' percentage that I see was listed
on the ticket
she wrote up. Or perhaps I'm being
cynical
.
She could just be happy that she earned that extra 'fifteen dollars' from dealing with me for only a few minutes. Just like any servant for receiving
small boons
.
Ah, I compared her job to
such a thing
again, I should really stop that before I slip
my opinion
out loud.
"Would you like a refill on your water or to look at the drink menu while you wait? We have a number of excellent spirits and a happy hour coming up soon."
Now she is reminding me more and more of a
merchant
.
> Wolf, comfort me. I believe I'm being fleeced. <
A snort and further curling up in my mindscape as it gives me the 'cold shoulder' back. I
probably deserve it
, but it's really making me want to show just how
annoying
I truly can be!