"I like them, don't get me wrong," she mutters, looking over the menu. "But it hasn't been ten hours since they picked me up from the airport, and it's bad enough to fly trans-continentally these days without the feeling of doom and fear if a Deep One will happen in the flight path of your plane, nevermind the jetlag..."

She picks a heaping plate with something that promises to be potatoes. What can go wrong there? Nothing, she needs carbs.

"They've shown me around like I'm a tourist here for the weekend and they have to smush all the landmarks into an hour. I think the alcohol was helping ignore how tired I am..." A little laugh. "Sorry, Josh."