RP: What's for Dinner?
Date: Tuesday, September 5, 1998
Characters: Wayne Hopkins, Roger Davies
Location: Wayne's flat
Status: Private
Summary: Wayne makes dinner
Completion: Complete
By the time Wayne got home from the revision group, he was bloody well sick of Charms. In fact, he was tempted to hide the book and not even open it again until next Monday in class. Not only was he sick of reading, he was starving. He'd had lunch, but he'd not had time to eat before he had to go to the revision group, which was a mistake he'd not make next week. He'd at least have a sandwich or something.
Course, now he was home and staring at the contents of his fridge-freezer and couldn't decide what to cook. Wasn't good to think 'bout such things while hungry, obviously. At least he had a choice, but it was good he started work soon. Didn't want to have to ask his mum for money, after all. Had enough to last until he got paid, but might mean having soup and sandwiches a few times before payday. Tonight, though, he wanted something good.
Pizza would be easiest, likely. It was one of his favorite lazy-night dinners, but he'd promised Gran that he wouldn't move out and live on pizza and sandwiches. Not like she'd actually ever find out, but he'd not be able to lie to her if she asked next time he visited. Figured she might be a seer, with that uncanny way of knowing exactly when he wasn't telling the whole truth, so was better just to be honest with her. So, yeah, pizza was out for tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
Had stuff to make a few choices, but most would take a while. Finally, he just grabbed a few things. Could do a fry up and see what happened. Sausage, onions, tomatoes, cheese. He frowned and looked at his vegs before grabbing a pepper. Needed something green, too. He considered the ingredients and nodded. Should taste well enough with each other, and he had fresh bread to go with. Maybe some potatoes, too. His stomach rumbled and he grinned. Yeah, potatoes too. He got a couple of those and deposited his armload of things on the counter.
Before he got started, he toed off his trainers and opened the door just a little. The flat was small, and he'd learned last week that frying anything could lead to the whole flat smelling like onions without having a door or window open. Since he was also frying up pepper, he opened a window, too before going back to the kitchen and getting started.
Characters: Wayne Hopkins, Roger Davies
Location: Wayne's flat
Status: Private
Summary: Wayne makes dinner
Completion: Complete
By the time Wayne got home from the revision group, he was bloody well sick of Charms. In fact, he was tempted to hide the book and not even open it again until next Monday in class. Not only was he sick of reading, he was starving. He'd had lunch, but he'd not had time to eat before he had to go to the revision group, which was a mistake he'd not make next week. He'd at least have a sandwich or something.
Course, now he was home and staring at the contents of his fridge-freezer and couldn't decide what to cook. Wasn't good to think 'bout such things while hungry, obviously. At least he had a choice, but it was good he started work soon. Didn't want to have to ask his mum for money, after all. Had enough to last until he got paid, but might mean having soup and sandwiches a few times before payday. Tonight, though, he wanted something good.
Pizza would be easiest, likely. It was one of his favorite lazy-night dinners, but he'd promised Gran that he wouldn't move out and live on pizza and sandwiches. Not like she'd actually ever find out, but he'd not be able to lie to her if she asked next time he visited. Figured she might be a seer, with that uncanny way of knowing exactly when he wasn't telling the whole truth, so was better just to be honest with her. So, yeah, pizza was out for tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
Had stuff to make a few choices, but most would take a while. Finally, he just grabbed a few things. Could do a fry up and see what happened. Sausage, onions, tomatoes, cheese. He frowned and looked at his vegs before grabbing a pepper. Needed something green, too. He considered the ingredients and nodded. Should taste well enough with each other, and he had fresh bread to go with. Maybe some potatoes, too. His stomach rumbled and he grinned. Yeah, potatoes too. He got a couple of those and deposited his armload of things on the counter.
Before he got started, he toed off his trainers and opened the door just a little. The flat was small, and he'd learned last week that frying anything could lead to the whole flat smelling like onions without having a door or window open. Since he was also frying up pepper, he opened a window, too before going back to the kitchen and getting started.