Rusty finishes her first plate and figures she probably oughtn't be too greedy with seconds. Maybe she'll just have some dessert. The worst part about England is how there's nothing sweet: no ginger snaps, no chocolate bars, no ice cream sundaes with shaved coconut and maraschino cherries. All they've got is spotted dick and fruitcake, it seems like.
She can't resist, therefore, the call of a slice of apple pie, nor a dollop of vanilla ice cream to the side of it. As she heads back to her seat, she catches sight of a guy sitting a little ways away. He looks like a tramp, with his long hair and the nasty scar on his face, but for all that, he doesn't give off an unfriendly air. And it's been so long since she actually had a conversation with anyone.
"Hi," she says, walking over to him. Rusty figures that if he doesn't want to be bothered, he'll tell her to buzz off, and that'll be that. "Mind if I eat near you?"
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Date: 2012-06-02 03:19 pm (UTC)She can't resist, therefore, the call of a slice of apple pie, nor a dollop of vanilla ice cream to the side of it. As she heads back to her seat, she catches sight of a guy sitting a little ways away. He looks like a tramp, with his long hair and the nasty scar on his face, but for all that, he doesn't give off an unfriendly air. And it's been so long since she actually had a conversation with anyone.
"Hi," she says, walking over to him. Rusty figures that if he doesn't want to be bothered, he'll tell her to buzz off, and that'll be that. "Mind if I eat near you?"