Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
attorneyatlol) wrote2009-05-11 11:55 am
attorneyatlol) wrote2009-05-11 11:55 am
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(BACKDATED!) [RL: - Monday, May 11; Lunch | Phoenix; Edgeworth]
Reading French was sort of like deciphering a cryptogram, Phoenix decided. He hadn't even heard of most of these dishes, much less did he know how to pronounce them, and the English descriptions explaining each item only marginally helped, as he wasn't particularly familiar with things like 'shallots' or 'arugula'....
But if there was one word he recognized, it was 'steak', and you couldn't go wrong with that, right?
Deciding that was probably his best bet, he set his menu down and rested his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his hand as he idly observed the people walking by.
It was a nice day to be sitting outside, at least. The temperature was in the high 80s, but there was a cool breeze to counter the heat, and the overhang above was wide enough to block the sunlight. The restaurant was nice enough, too: a small, old French bistro called La Lune, about half an hour from his office. Being at the mercy of public transit system tended to make one incredibly early, however (or incredibly late; thankfully, this wasn't one of those times), and he had arrived about twenty minutes before their set meeting time. (Sometimes it paid to keep your own office hours, he thought with a smirk.)
Stifling a yawn, he turned back to the table, once more looked over his menu in the sudden, unlikely event that he felt adventurous, and waited for Edgeworth to arrive.
But if there was one word he recognized, it was 'steak', and you couldn't go wrong with that, right?
Deciding that was probably his best bet, he set his menu down and rested his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his hand as he idly observed the people walking by.
It was a nice day to be sitting outside, at least. The temperature was in the high 80s, but there was a cool breeze to counter the heat, and the overhang above was wide enough to block the sunlight. The restaurant was nice enough, too: a small, old French bistro called La Lune, about half an hour from his office. Being at the mercy of public transit system tended to make one incredibly early, however (or incredibly late; thankfully, this wasn't one of those times), and he had arrived about twenty minutes before their set meeting time. (Sometimes it paid to keep your own office hours, he thought with a smirk.)
Stifling a yawn, he turned back to the table, once more looked over his menu in the sudden, unlikely event that he felt adventurous, and waited for Edgeworth to arrive.
no subject
It took him only a few moments to peruse the menu. La Lune was one of his most frequent haunts, and he’d already had a few potentials in mind before he’d reached the restaurant. Choice confirmed, he set the menu to the side and glanced around, looking for one of the members of the bistro’s capable waitstaff.
no subject
Taking a sip of water, he looked around the bistro for the umpteenth time that afternoon and nodded appreciatively. "This is a nice little place."