Chapter 44: Food for Thought
The bar is a loud combination of music and laughter. The smell of the ocean overpowers the sweaty patrons as we stroll up to a podium with a handwritten sign that reads “seat yaself, we don’t care where ya sit.” I lead the way through the group of guys in denim cutoffs chugging back pints of beer and make a beeline for the open high top near the window.
“Well, this is definitely different.” Saz plops on the stool across from me, looking around.
“Are you sure you wanna spend your vacation in a place like this? I saw way better restaurants that would be more your style.”
“My style?” Saz wrinkles his nose. “And what would that be?”
I hold out my pinky and pretend to be sipping on tea. “A bit of gold on my hamburger. And make sure it is the 18 karat, not the 16.”
“I assure you that I am not some food snob.”