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I kept my surprise to myself. No wonder people ate at these sorts of places. They were a fraction of the price.
The guy who had taken our order seemed to be the chef and, this late at night, every other staff member as well. He quickly returned from the kitchen and started making two large chocolate milkshakes, loading in the chocolate ice cream, sauce, cocoa powder, and what looked like some kind of chocolate milk.
It was fascinating to watch him making them, clearly practiced. He made it look easy to build them up, making themlook pretty, too, although he paused partway through them to disappear into the kitchens again.
He came out with two large plastic bowls of fries. Each was lined with greaseproof paper, and they were steaming hot. I wasn’t sure what to make of being handed such a large amount but I barely had time to consider it before he rushed off again to finish our shakes.
I also wasn’t used to having my order come in such a strange fashion. Normally, drinks would be served first, and there wasn’t any water anywhere I could see. Kit didn’t seem surprised or as if she was expecting any, and she picked up a fry, blew on it, and then ate it.
“Oh, that’s good,” she declared as soon as she finished her bite.
The lack of cutlery bothered me, but she happily used her fingers, so I did the same, wanting to try them. They were crisp and lightly salted, and I had to admit, they tasted good.
“Any sauces with those?” the chef asked as he finally brought the massive milkshakes to us.
“I’m good,” Kit replied, pulling her shake over to her.
“Uhhh…ketchup,” I said when I was put on the spot again. I didn’t know if I wanted them with ketchup for sure, but I was pretty sure it was the normal response to give, and I definitely wanted to be normal today.
Kit then did yet another unexpected thing. She picked up another fry, and instead of blowing on it and eating it as she had the first time, she dipped it into her shake.
My mouth fell open as she ate it without hesitation. Even the chef didn’t bat an eyelid as he brought me a red bottle with a nozzle.
“You kids need anything else?” he asked.
I shook my head, still staring in horror at Kit’s eating. She was already on to her second and only finally looked my wayafter she had stuffed it into her mouth, also letting the chef know she didn’t need anything.
“What?” she asked as the chef walked away to sit by a radio blasting out music and picked up some kind of magazine. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Does that taste okay?” I asked, pointing to the food.
At first, she didn’t respond, not seeming to know what I was talking about, then it was as if a lightbulb switched on in her head. “Oh, have you never dipped your fries in a shake or ice cream?”
“Nope. Not once. It’s not exactly the done thing at the places I usually eat. We don’t even eat with our fingers normally.”
“Do you want a fork?” she asked, glancing toward our chef as if she would call him over for me. It amused me that of all the parts she was most worried about for me, it was the utensils and not that she was combining two food groups I had never expected to see anyone combine.
I chuckled and shook my head. “No, I’m good, but I have to try your crazy combination.”
She smiled and watched as I repeated her actions, waiting to see if I liked it. It was weird, the sweet from the ice cream and the coldness hitting first, but then the salty heat from the fries came through, and it was strangely somehow decent.
“What do you think?” The words rolled off Kit’s tongue so swiftly I had trouble making them out with her British accent, but I nodded while I finished chewing.
“Okay, I don’t think that it’s something I’d want a lot of, but it somehow kind of works. You’re weird, though.”
“Tell that to all the other people who do this, too.” She grinned, not offended by my response, and it baffled me that this was something normal for others. People were strange.
I stuck to the ketchup after that, but it was fun to talk about other differences between our countries as Kit devoured herfood. Although I didn’t add it to the conversation, I appreciated that we had done this. The food was good, and the milkshake was heaven. It was nice to sit somewhere with no agenda and no fear of being interrupted by anyone who recognized me.
Here, I was completely relaxed and out with a wonderful person. I was certain that this was exactly the sort of thing Daniel had meant when he had told me to just go on dates and enjoy myself. Thanks to Kit, I was doing something I’d never done before, getting away from the crowds and my usual life, and letting myself fully relax. It was perfect.
At some point, all the other patrons left, giving us the place to ourselves. Now and then, someone came in for some kind of takeout or drink to go, but the chef didn’t seem to care either way. He took money, made food if needed, and otherwise read his magazine and listened to the music.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I was going to show you a neat trick.” I grinned as Kit looked at me quizzically. This was going to blow her mind. “When you’re rich, there are certain perks. So…I need a new jacket, right?”
She nodded, finishing her food at a much slower pace, no doubt as full as I felt. I showed her my phone screen as I opened an app that let me browse a particular catalog of clothes. It didn’t take me long to pull up the jackets and choose one identical to the one she wore. I hit the ‘add to basket’ button.
“So what, they deliver wherever you are, immediately or something?” she asked, beginning to get the idea.
