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Maya comes back with your chicken in beer. You tuck in, ravenously. It is superb. Realising how hungry you are, you order a rocket salad. Having a starter after your main course seems to be exactly the kind of crazy, devil-may-care behaviour that amuses a girl like Maya, and she laughs.
“I’m glad you like the chicken in beer”, she says. “It’s the favourite dish of Mr Bridges, who comes in here every now and again.”
She disappears into the kitchen again. You finish the chicken and your pint. Emboldened by the beer, when Maya comes back with the salad you ask her whether she’d like to go out dancing with you when she finishes work.
“Actually”, she says, “I’m already going dancing tonight, but you’re welcome to join me. See you outside Club Twart at 11pm British Standard Time?”
You don’t have a watch or know where this club is, but you’ll worry about that later.
“Sure thing!” you say. |
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