Il Pollo [Saturday evening]
It was Victor's birthday, and while Olive's first inclination had been to throw him a totally awesome party -- well, her track record wasn't especially great, and there'd already been the dance yesterday, anyway, and half the town was speed-dating.
So she'd opted to go the fancy restaurant route instead, with a neatly-wrapped package under her arm and her super-tall Steve Maddens on her feet. (What? She hadn't gotten to wear them to the dance for fear of twisting an ankle. Dinner seemed way less standing-intensive.)
She waited until they were settled at a table before asking the all-important: "So how's it feel to be all legal now? I can't refer to you as jailbait anymore."
Well, she could, but that road made her head hurt.
[for the birthday boy!]
So she'd opted to go the fancy restaurant route instead, with a neatly-wrapped package under her arm and her super-tall Steve Maddens on her feet. (What? She hadn't gotten to wear them to the dance for fear of twisting an ankle. Dinner seemed way less standing-intensive.)
She waited until they were settled at a table before asking the all-important: "So how's it feel to be all legal now? I can't refer to you as jailbait anymore."
Well, she could, but that road made her head hurt.
[for the birthday boy!]