19

so, the bosphorus. good food, check. manageable price, check. absence of waiting line, check. hot date, to be confirmed.

there's more ambiance in the bosphorus than you imagine the owner could afford, and less privacy than you can, considering all the tables are between sneezing distance of each other. nevertheless, there is not much room for complains, as there is no complaint form to begin with.

as you are engaging the lawyer in conversation, and are just about able to phase out the background noise to get into the mood of the situation... a seedy waiter appears. unlike your usual wandering monster, there is no saving throw for this encounter, and you are prompted to place an order. considering you spent no time reading the menu, and all of it reading the lawyer's eyes, now would be a good time to eyeball some possible options for dinner. you stall for time, as you order a tall glass of vimto:

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