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|margaret emmaline chung||
Posted on: Feb 9 2018, 02:40 PM
notes: I’m so hungry rn
Meg waited in anticipation in front of the Mediterranean-style food truck, the delightful scents of cooked lamb and spices delighting her, but making her feel even more hungry. The truck, aptly named “I Need a Gyro,” was located on the Stockton Street Winter Walk, a one-block alleyway that was home to various food trucks, vendors selling their wares, and tiny electronic animals that children could ride around the turf on during the cooler months of the year. It was a cute area for tourists, as the purchasable items, both food and otherwise, were priced accordingly. The food blogger didn’t mind too much, as the tastiness of the dishes more than made up for it. She had been here before to review some of the other trucks, including the one specializing in rotisserie chicken, the New England cuisine one, and the Pho truck. However, she had never visited this Gyro truck, but the delectable smells wafting from the kitchen inside lured her in like a child fixated on a shiny new toy.
She slowly inched forward into the line, her growing hungrier and hungrier by the minute. Meg was still trying to decide what she wanted, as the menu was quite extensive despite the close quarters that the vehicle provided. Obviously she would go with the lamb gyro as she had been craving it since she had gotten in line. Maybe that paired with the falafel or maybe the Saganaki or a slice of the Baklava. All of it sounded so delicious and choosing was just going to be difficult. Her mind raced as she tried to decide, eventually ruling out the Baklava due to its messiness and the falafel just because she wasn’t feeling it. Finally stepping up to order, Meg stood on the tips of her toes so she could make better eye contact with the person inside. “I’ll have a lamb gyro and an order of the Saganaki.” The man inside nodded his head, writing it down on a notepad. “That’ll be $8.50.” She grabbed her wallet from inside her purse and retrieved a ten dollar bill, before placing it for the man to get. “Keep the change.” The man inside took the bill and handed her a receipt. “Thanks, your number is fifty-eight.”
Meg got out of the front of the line, moving to wait near the window for pick-up as she returned her wallet to its place. She also took a notepad and pen from her purse, jotting down a few quick notes about where she was and what she was having. The secondary magazine that she worked for, Cherry Bombe, had asked her to do a feature on the various food trucks around the city and she was sure that with the addition of this Mediterranean restaurant, she would have enough for the article. Meg had visited maybe ten or so of these trendy food vehicles in the past three months, all of the, with very different cuisine and pun-tastic names. Lost in thought as she remembered some of the other stops she had tried, the brunette almost missed someone calling out fifty-eight, letting her know that her much anticipated food was finally ready. The food blogger put away her notepad and retrieved the takeout box before quickly glancing up and down the crowded street. There weren’t many tables with open chairs, but there was one further down the street over by one of the many vendors that sold animal beanies. There was someone sitting at one of the chairs, but Meg hoped that they wouldn’t mind if someone else joined them. She walked over to the table, carefully holding her food in one hand. “Mind if I sit here? I won’t be too long, I promise.” Meg smiled at the person there, hoping that they would say yes.
|leia ivy joyce||
Posted on: Feb 9 2018, 02:56 PM