Closed @downxbyxaxcove Donnie x Calypso Crossroads Cafe
Donnie pulled the door open to the cafe, blinking tightly as his eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent light—a stark, painful contrast to the pitch-black night outside. Or morning. Donnie wasn't really sure at this point. He was still reeling from the night's questionable activities, a toxic buzz lingering in his bones as the alcohol began to settle and a slow sobriety set in. It made his stomach turn. He needed food to cure the nausea, specifically the greasiest diner food he could get his hands on.
The tall man slid himself right into a booth, completely failing to notice that one of the waitresses was already occupying the table. He looked up, freezing for a split second in realization before he just aggressively settled into the vinyl seat across from her anyway, entirely unbothered by the invasion of personal space. His half-lidded eyes landed on her apron and the name tag. Even as dense as his brain was right now, he managed to gather that she worked here—maybe she was off her shift for the night or just taking a quick break, but it didn't really matter to Donnie.
He slid the sticky, laminated menu across the table and stared blankly down at it, not saying a single word to the woman for a long, awkward moment. With a loud, wet sniff, his focus finally drifted up from the plastic menu to the face in front of him.
"What's good tonight?" he asked, his voice dropping into a tired, gravelly scratch.