"Hi, welcome to Love me Burger®, can I take your order?" So, yeah, it seems Izumi and Sotoka-san's idea of hanging out in a Friday afternoon is to end up at a Love me Burger®.
I was thinking we should go for a hot chocolate from the Coffee Bin®, instead, but, yeah, I'm already hungry, and it's not like I'm going to fill myself up with just cakes, muffins or whatever they have there.
Maybe they have crêpes, pizzas, baguettes, pasta and other stuff alike.
Yeah, we should go when we're done here.
Just to investigate.
Well, whatever, Izumi's the first in the line, and the cashier gives her the most professional and fake smile she can make, but, when we got in, for a split second, she glanced at Izumi with a both confusion and disgust, which is perfectly understandable if you consider Izumi, but now I wonder if that reaction was because:
a) Izumi's totally messy and shameful uniform;
b) Izumi's totally messi and shameful hairstyle;
c) Her wet dog smell;
d) Her constant and unnecessary yelling;
e) All of the above.
I bet it's option e). It surely is option e).
"I want a double eXtreme® with uLtra® fries and soda. And you, Sotoka-chan?"
"No, I'll order after you."
"NO, SOTOKA-CHAN, I'LL BE ON ME 'CAUSE I DAISUKI SO MUCH 'CAUSE YOU HUGGED ME TODAY, AND—
"Excuse me. Could you just keep it down, please?" the cashier asks rightfully so. And Izumi's quite a yeller, right? I guess I got so used to her yelling I don't notice how weird and annoying it is.
"Oh. Gomen'nasai, cashier-san."
"Yeah, we're so sorry for that," Sotoka-san says.
"But I was telling you, Sotoka-chan, that today it's on me 'cause you hugged me and told me you want to get used to my hugs, and I want to celebrate—
"At a Love me Burger®?" I rightfully ask.
And Izumi stares at me with disdain.
Typical of her.
"YEAH, AT A LOVE ME BURGER® 'CAUSE THE eXtreme®'s DELICIOUS, AND THE FRIES—
"Could you keep it down, please?" the cashier asks again.
"Oh. Gomen'nasai again, cashier-san."
"We're so, so sorry. It won't happen again," Sotoka-san says, but we know it'll happen again.
"Geez, Izumi, why are you always yelling?"
"'Cause you're such a nuisance," she replies, even though 1) she's the nuisance, and 2) I don't know what it has to do with her yelling.
But anyway.
"So I'll be a double eXtreme® with fries and an uLtra® soda, onegaishimasu."
"Isn't that too much?" Wait. Did I say it out loud.
"Hey, we don't count other people's food," scolds me Sotoka-san, and Izumi turns towards me, and she seems pretty upset, and yells:
"WELL, YEAH, DOUBLE eXtreme®'S TOO BIG FOR ME, AND NO, I CAN'T EAT IT AL IN ONE SITTING, BUT I CAN SAVE THE REST FOR LATER, AND THE DOUBLE eXtreme® COSTS ALMOST THE SAME AS THE ORIGINAL eXtreme®!"
Yep. It happened again.
I mean, I'm right in front of you, and I can her you well, you know?
The cashier sighs annoyed and says:
"Well, anything else?"
Izumi turns towards Sotoka-san and, as expected, her expression transforms immediately.
"What would you have, Sotoka-chan?"
"No, I'll order my own food, thanks."
"NO, SOTOKA-CHAN, YOUR MEAL'S ON ME!"
"But I want to pay it, and it's not fair for you to pay me everything every time we hang out."
"BUT I WANNA, SOTOKA-CHAN, ONEGAISHIMASU!"
"SHHHHHHHHHHH!" shushes just one of the angry customers that are staring at us.
How awkward.
"Well, I'm paying my part," declares Sotoka-san; "if you want to pay for someone's meal, pay Ino-san's."
"What? I'm not gonna pay hers; she…" Izumi turns towards me. I put my hands together like I'm praying and nod with my head as I make the saddest and most pitiful expression I can make.
"So, that's the thing, Izumi-san. You pay Ino's meal or you only pay yours."
Izumi stares at me.
I pretend I'm about to cry.
Izumi keeps staring at me.
"Please," I whisper.
And then turns back at the cashier.
"That's all," she says.
"Very well," says the cashier. "It'll be ¥590."
Izumi takes out a bunch of coins and rugged ibills from her pocket and takes an eternity and a half to gather the exact amount.
The cashier receives the coins and gives Izumi a receipt in return.
"Please wait for your order in the next line."
Izumi gets in the line next of us, even though she's the only one there, and our line advances. Now's Sotoka-san turn to order.
"Hi, welcome to Love me Burger®, can I take your order?"
"For me it'll be 10 nuggets and a mini soda, please."
"Very well," the cashier takes Sotoka-san's order. "It'll be ¥390."
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"Oh, yeah, right. I'm sorry," Sotoka-san puts one of her knees on the floor, takes out one of her shoes and takes out a rolled up ¥1,000 bill from there (and it's rolled up very, very thinly. It looks as thin as a popsicle handle), unrolls it and gives it to the cashier. She receives it with a glipse of confusion and disgust and gives her some coins and a receipt in return.
"Please wait for your order in the next line."
"Thank you," Sotoka-san gets in the line next to me, and my line advances.
"Hi, welcome to Love me Burger®, can I take your order?"
"A chicken sandwich and a chocolate milkshake," I say.
"Very well," the cashier takes my order. "It'll be ¥470."
I pay her with a ¥500 bill, and the cashier gives me three ¥10 coins and a receipt in return.
"Please wait for your order in the next line."
And I get in the next line.
"A chicken sandwich," says Izumi. "I haven't had one of those here, and why are they called chicken sandwiches instead of chicken burgers? They're called that at Burger Kink."
"Whatever," I say, "they're only words."
"Maybe they make them with slices of bread instead of buns," says Sotoka-san, and that makes sense, even though they both taste the same, so it doesn't matter.
"So if you change the bread on a ham sandwich, it becomes a ham burger? But hamburgers are totally different," Izumi says stupidly and unnecessarily.
"Yeah, they are," Sotoka-san takes out her phone and starts checking her messages or something. "Here it says sandwiches are basically food between two pieces of bread, so burgers are sandwiches too."
Really? You took out your phone for that? And, besides:
"That's stupid. And why would you ca—
"And what about hot dogs?" Izumi interrupts me.
Oh, come on...
"They're sandwiches too, right?" replies Sotoka-san.
"Yeah, but are burgers and hot dogs the same thing? 'Cause they're pretty similar. If you put sausages between two buns, it's a burger or a hot dog?"
"It's stupid," I reply. "And why would you put sausages between two buns? They'll roll down."
"But it's a burger or a hot dog though? Can a burger be also a sandwich and a hot dog at the same time?"
"Who cares?" I say, and really, who cares? "If you want a burger, you order a burger, and if you want a hot dog, you order a hot dog. It's not that hard, you know?"
"Let's find out," Sotoka-san ignores me completely. "Ok… It only shows recipes."
"What else do you expect?" I ask. "Nobody cares is burgers are also hot dogs —which they aren't— or the other way around. It's stupid."
"Ok. Let's me check 'burger'," Sotoka-san ignores me again. "It says burgers are a type of sandwich made with grinded meat in a fillet shape, and… hot dogs are made with a sausage in a hot dog bun. This one is more specific."
"But they are still sandwiches," Izumi got it all wrong.
"No, they are not," sorry but I can't deal with that much bs anymore. "A burger is a burger, a hotdog is a hotdog, a sandwich is a sandw—
"No, they are," Sotoka-san tries to correct me, but she obviously fails. "This article says so."
"So? Do you think everything on the internet is true?" I ask. "Burgers and sandwiches are clearly different: they look different, they taste different, they are cooked differently."
"Are hot dogs subs, like the ones from SubTrain®?" Izumi asks, and no, they aren't, but they really are alike, huh? "And what's the difference between a sub and a baguette? A baguette and a panini? Where is the line between one thing and another?"
"Who cares?" I ask right on time because a a second Love me Burger® employee leaves three trays on the counter and says:
"A double eXtreme® with uLtra® fries and soda, a chicken sandwich and a chocolate milkshake, and 10 Love me® Nuggets and a mini soda."
Izumi, Sotoka-san and I take our respective orders.
Now, where do we sit?
"How about we sit a t the playground?" Sotoka-san asks.
"Why, though?" I ask. "To see if your wet dog smell can be neutralized by the playground's own feet stench?"
"No, so you can go play there, little girl."
"Oh, you wanna play, huh?" I roll up my sleeves and approach her to see who'll be the little crying girl in the end.
"Hey, stop it," Sotoka-chan puts herself between us. "I'm glad we're going to the playhouse because you two are acting like little girls," and she glares at us disapprovingly. But when she glares at me she probably remembers how Izumi called me and starts laughing.
Very mature.
Anyway, we go to the playground.
"How about we sit at the table over there, the one at the corner?" I ask.
"That's too far away," complains Izumi, "we'd better sit here; no one's around."
"No, let's sit there," I insist.
"Why there?" Sotoka-san asks me.
"So the kids won't bother us."
"I agree," wait. Izumi agrees with me? That's just too weird, "kids are a nuisance: they just run and yell."
"Yeah, and you're not exactly like them, right, Izumi?"
"You're both so mean," Sotoka-san reproaches us. "Kids are pure and honest and well intended."
"Yeah, right," I say. "They're selfish, cruel and cynical. Al least adults—or at least some of them—keep appearances because of society and all, but kids only do whatever they want and only think about themselves. And they're always dirty and play with mud and bugs and trash and the eat boogers."
"Wow, you're so bitter, Ino-san, but, fine, let's sit in that table."
"And we sit in there, unwrap our burgers and start eating in silence. Everything's just fine, but some god damned kids, for some reason, get out of the playground and run all the way to a table with two girls who clearly don't want to be disturbed and one who's dumb enough to say:
"Hi," Sotoka-san smiles at them. "You want a nugget?" Dumb Sotoka-san offers them a nugget and, no surprise here, one of the kids takes it, bites it and saves the rest in his pocket.
Gross.
Kids are so gross.
And people ask me why I hate them so much.
"Whatcha doin'?" A dumb kid asks a dumb question.
"What does it looks like?" I ask.
"You eating," he replies.
"So, why do you ask?"
"Hey, don't be like that," says Sotoka-san, and she starts talking with them, but one of them looks at me and ask dumbly:
"How's ur burger?"
I stop eating and sigh.
"It's a chicken sandwich," learn the difference, kid.
"Oh. U like chickn?"
"No," I reply and give a bite to my sandwich, and that kid stares at me extremely troubled and confused, like I just ruined his childhood or something, and it's so funny because it's only a lie, kid, you are going to get them every single day for the rest of your life. Or did no one had lied to you so blatantly? Well, welcome to the real world, you dumb kin, ha, dumb kid, and I can't help it but smile, and Sotoka-san stares at me and shakes her head disapprovingly.
"Don't you listen to her," she says to the dumb—and still troubled—kid; "she's always grumpy."
"She a kid?" ask the smallest of the dumb bunch. He must be like four, five or whatever.
"Yeah, and that's because of a curse," I say, and he looks at me dumbly.
"Curses at not real," says one of the kids who apparently is not that dumb.
"Yeah," says another, and he can't think of anything else to say, so he doesn't say anything else.
"No, they're real," I insist. "A witch cursed me a looooooooooooong ago. And you know why?"
The little dumb one shakes his head.
"For asking dumb questions like yours."
"No, don't listen to her," Sotoka-san carries that kid—and the kid's dumb enough to let a stranger carry him—and sits him on her legs. "It's just she's was grumpy she never grew up, and that's why she's so small."
"Kinda like the Jugenflais," says one of them, and those bastards start laughing at my face and repeating "Jugenflais, Jugenflais" and pointing at me.
"Like Kimby," says another one, and those bastards laugh even more.
And Sotoka-san too. Damn you, Sotoka-san, you also don't know what the hell's a Jugenflais or a Kimby, but you're still mocking me.
So that's how it's going to be. Ok, ok. Cool. Cool.
"And she looks like a bear and smells like a wet dog," says a kid and point at Izumi, and everyone else start laughing and calling her 'wet dog, wet dog'.
"SHUT UP, YOU GOD DAMNED KIDS! NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE, AND YOU," Izumi points at the smallest kid of all, the one stting on Sotoka-san's legs, LEAVE SOTOKA-CHAN ALONE!
That kid starts crying, and Sotoka-san hugs him.
"Don't yell at them, Izumi-san; they are just kids!"
"THEY STARTED IT! I DIDN'T DO THEM ANYTHING!"
Yeah, and that's also why I hate kids so much.
"But don't yell at them, and you," she says to them, "you shouldn't mock anyone."
"Yeah, right?" I say.
"Ok, I'm sorry," finally says Sotoka-san, "but stop being mean with them. And you, please don't cry," Sotoka-san hugs the crybaby she has sitting on her legs. Fortunately he stops crying.
"Let's go," says one of the kids, and all of them go to a table where there's a couple women talking and laughing out loud.
"Mom, we met those girls," and he points at us, but the women are not even looking at him, "one gave me a nugget, and the other one's like a Jugerflais, and the other one's a bear and smells like a wet dog and and—
"That's great, sweetie, but now I'm talking with auntie. Go play somewhere else."
And the kids go play somewhere else—fortunately not with us—and the women keep talking and laughing out loud.
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"Now where do we go?" Asks Izumi.
"What time is it?" Ask Sotoka-san while taking her pone from her pocket. She checks it and her face changes completely. "I gotta go; he told me to be early. Bye," and she runs away as fast as she can.
Poor Sotoka-san.
Her dad's soooooo strict.
I don't know how she handles it. My dad just asks me how I'm doing once in a while and it drives me crazy.
Poor Sotoka-san.
But she's gone now. And only Izumi and I remain.
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Yeah…
"Hey…" says Izumi so quietly I can barely hear her. "I'm gonna go to Anime Café. Wanna join?"
"Why would I want to go there? You know I don't watch that stuff. And also I want to go home and take a good shower."
"Oh, yeah, sure, sure. I forgot we still smell."
"Yeah…"
"Yeah…"
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"Well… bye, then," and Izumi leaves.
And I go back home.
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Maybe I should have gone to that Anime Café thing. Maybe the hot chocolate there is good.
Well, maybe I'll go some other day.
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But I don't know where it is. I'll have to ask Izumi, and Izumi will want to join, and the idea of spending time with her while we're surrounded by anime and manga doesn't really sound great, to be honest.
So maybe not.