fandomtownies | Il Pollo, Thursday Evening

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Il Pollo, Thursday Evening

So, it was a date. Like, two people spending time together because they maybe kinda like spending time together and want to get to know one another better so that they can spend more time together, date. Evan had picked Sholeh up after his shift at the library, and they had started the evening with the mandatory run to the bookstore, because what better way was there to spend a date than book shopping?

And then they had set off to have dinner, which would have been an easy walk from the bookstore. Really. It should have been. But Sholeh had smiled and Evan had stopped paying attention to anything resembling what direction they were going... so instead of ending up at Café Fina, they'd found themselves on completely the other side of the island, a fact that Evan only became dimly aware of as he realized he was actually in a part of town he never went to.

"... I don't suppose you're in the mood for pasta tonight?"

[OOC: For the girl! But open place in town is open for other pasta lovers too, of course.]

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"Pasta's good," Sholeh agreed easily enough. She looked confused for a moment and then dissolved into giggles again. "Did we miss the other restaurant entirely?"

Look! They'd been having a very important conversation, okay?! About...stuff...and things...and books!

It had been very important! It just... had been! And her giggles meant that Evan was giggling, too. Because they were hopeless, that's why.

"We didn't just miss it... We went completely the wrong direction! Fina is on the other side of the island, pretty much overlooking the shoreline." He managed to reign in his giggles enough to smile at her sheepishly. "We could head back that way, but I can't promise we won't end up in the preserve or something, at this rate."

"If you're okay with pasta, I don't mind eating here," Sholeh assured him. "Besides, I'm pretty hungry. If we walk all the way back, I might faint!" She said it while grinning, to make him think it was a joke, but...She'd been too nervous to eat for most of the day. She really did need to eat soon.

Her and Evan both!

"Well, then pasta it can be," he decided, smiling and reaching to open the door for her. "I've heard pretty good things about this place! I mean, on the radio."

Because it wasn't like he'd gone asking around about restaurants. Who would he even ask?

Maybe they could turn themselves into a pair of restaurant guides? They could travel around the island trying out each restaurant and then let people know how they were!

"I've only had pasta since I arrived on the island, but I really like it," Sholeh confided. "I like how versatile it is!"

"You can put almost anything on it," Evan agreed, smiling. "I mean, so long as it's a sauce. I probably wouldn't try to make a sundae out of it or anything."

He reserved all of his intelligent conversation for when he wasn't blushing. A lot.

It was hard to talk intelligently when all the blood was rushing to his...cheeks.

"Let's keep the ice cream for brownies," Sholeh decided. "Oooh, do you think we can have a salad with our pasta? That would be really yummy." She gave him an apologetic glance for asking for more food when he'd said he was paying, but...salad. In the winter.

That was amazing.

"I think the salad actually comes with the pasta here," Evan replied, smiling a little more. "And breadsticks. The breadsticks are supposed to be really good."

And nonstop! Nonstop breadsticks! That was a win!

"It does?!" Look at her face light up at the thought of getting salad and not being greedy! It was like a miracle! "Can I tell you something?"

Beat.

"I kinda don't see the point of breadsticks. I mean, they're delicious! But they don't make any sense!"

Evan couldn't help it- He laughed at that.

"Really? I think they're supposed to be there to help you mop off the last of the sauce from your plate. But by the time they actually serve the pasta, you're so full of breadsticks already, you never have room left to get to the bottom of your plate!"

Il Pollo problems.

"But would't regular slices of bread be more useful for that?" Sholeh asked. "It's the softer parts that are more absorbent and a wider hunk would be easier to maneuver!"

That's right. She was arguing the scientific merits of breadsticks. Which might explain why Sholeh wasn't a big part of the dating scene.

Well, Evan could appreciate a good, logical argument for what it was worth!

"I think mostly they prefer the breadsticks because they can be made quickly, and served while they're still hot, without needing to be cut," he offered. "That way, you're guaranteed fresh bread, quickly."

And confirmation the girl he liked with an irredeemable dork? Because her sisters were silently facepalming.

"Oh, well, that I can't argue with," Sholeh said, laughing. "Shall we go in, then?"

"Let's do that, yeah," Evan replied, blushing all the more. They were seriously discussing breadstick semantics in the doorway, weren't they? He lead her into the restaurant, then, and requested a table for two.

For two!

... Which had him trying not to giggle all over again. Because she wasn't the only dork on this date.

THANK THE MOTHER FOR THAT! If she were, this date would end up being even more awkward than it was going to be. And a much less adorable awkward at that.

"Welcome to Il Pollo and certainly. Please, follow me." The waiter grabbed two menus and a bucket of breadsticks before escorting them to a table. He smiled at them both and pulled out Sholeh's chair, before giving Evan a small raise of his eyebrow. Should he push her in, or would Evan like to?

For her part, Sholeh sat down, missing the significant glances behind her and looked around. "You know it's a good restaurant when everything just smells delicious."

Was that a cue? Oh, oh, he was supposed to-- Evan managed, by some miracle, to not stumble over himself to get to the seat, so that he could push it in. See? He did good?

... He cast an uncertain look at the waiter, just to make certain, before smiling and taking his own seat.

"It does smell pretty great, doesn't it? This was a pretty good detour, I think."

The waiter was doing his very best not to just crack up right now, truth be told. Oh these kids. He'd been in the service industry long enough to spot 'earnest to a fault' by now.

"We're pleased to hear that," he said, opening the menus and handing them over. The bread basket went in a middle and a busboy came over to place to glasses of ice cold water next to them. "I'll give you some time to peruse the menus. When you're ready to order, gesture. I'll be right there."

And with a small bow, he was gone.

"Wow," Sholeh said, looking at the menu. "There's a lot of stuff here. It's almost too much to choose from!"

...And looked kinda pricey, too. Maybe she should just find the cheapest thing on the menu and ask for that?

"And it all looks really good," Evan replied, staring at the menu, too. "But that's just more reason to get whatever really catches your eye, you know? When there's so much, it must mean you want something a lot when it sounds better than the rest."

Which was his way of saying no, really, he had this one!

... He was getting something cheap for himself, though.

Okay, she was limiting herself to the mid-range at the highest. And being very grateful that neither of them drank wine. Because those prices were just--WAIT THAT WAS PER GLASS?

"I'm just trying to narrow it down by sauce!" Sholeh said with a nervous laugh. "Red sauce, white sauce, garlic sauce, meat sauce, butter...I'm not even going to ask about the different kind of pastas. I'm going to close my eyes, point to one and ask for that."

Really! Who needed to choose between gnocci, ziti, vermicelli, spaghetti, angel-hair, penne...the list just kept going!

"That kind of sounds like the safest option," Evan admitted, looking at the menu. "Or at least the option that will get us food faster. I would go with spaghetti bolognese, but my Ma's was always untouchable. I think I'd just be disappointed."

Because nobody's cooking was as amazing as his mother's had been. Ever.

"Garlic sauce is always good, if we don't mind having breath that could scare off a legion of vampires after dinner?"

Zhahar and Zeela groaned at that. Groaned.

::What?:: Sholeh asked, started.

*Nothing, never mind, we're not even here,* Zhahar said. *Ignore us.*

=Of all the terrible things to talk about!= Zeela said at the same time. =Who brings up bad breath on a date?=

::I'm taking Zhahar's advice and ignoring you both again.::

"Vampires?" she asked, hoping that he would blame her moment of inattention on the menu. "I've heard of people mentioning them on the island, but I don't know what they are. Something allergic to garlic?"

"They're, um... the dead brought back to life," Evan ventured. "They're allergic to sunlight and garlic, and... some of them can turn into bats, and they drink blood."

So garlic breath might just save your life!

"I don't think I've ever met one or anything, though."

"Dead brought back to life?" Sholeh asked, wrinkling her nose. These vampire types did not sound at all pleasant. "Are they demons?" It was an effort of will not to add a 'too' to that. "Uhh, we learned about exorcisms in class the other day. So I'm just wondering."

"I'm not sure," Evan admitted, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Where I'm from, at least, they originated in ancient Egypt... I think it was a curse from their gods that brought them back. A lot of things in Egypt had something to do with the gods."

Funny, that.

"Ooooh, I don't think I've heard a myth about that before," Sholeh said, setting aside her menu to give him her full attention. Look, he was talking about mythology and history. Too fascinating to look away. "I really love mythology, you know? Reading about what a culture believes helps you to really understand them. It's like reading their fantasy, too. You get to learn what they dream about."

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Il Pollo, Thursday Evening

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