There were things Lacey could have lived without, really, like discovering the existence of fanfiction.net. (Yes, it'd taken her this long. Shut up.) She could have turned back while it was still safe, but no, she'd had to keep poking through out of curiosity, and then it turned into a fascinating horror, and then trainwreck syndrome kicked in
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"Hello," she said, as she claimed a seat at the counter. "Pardon me, but are the sweet potato fries fresh-cut or frozen?"
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Being sadly lacking in that regard, and thus cheerfully oblivious to the inevitability, she smiled brightly (if a little maniacally) at Colette and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Fresh-cut. And organic," she added hastily. Who, Lacey? Always trying desperately to impress?
Naaaaaaaaah.
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Really.
"Then I'll take a plateful," she said, clearly not having expected the answer. In Colette's head, American diner = frozen and canned produce. "And ... oh, a turkey Reuben, please."
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Or Lacey will do this: O.O
And then this: D:
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This week's specials board courtesy of The GastroBus, and I may just spend the next month and a half of Mondays going through various L.A. catering trucks' menus or something. Because I still don't know what to make of the fact that we have that many catering trucks with websites.
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SANDPAPER.
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