Time for some food! (Lock Please)

Priscilla woke with the alarm at 6 p.m. and stretched lazily on the bed. Eyes half closed, she sat up and swung her legs off the mattress while her feet hung in the air freely. Groggily she walked to the coffee maker, with a push of a button, the aroma of fresh coffee filled her hotel room within minutes.
"I'm going to need a little pick me up if I want to see all this city has to offer.", she voiced to no-one at all.

Throwing her thick black hair into a ponytail, Cilla checked the mirror quickly to make sure her appearance was presentable enough to the public. You just never know when you'll smile at someone and have a big peice of lettuce in your teeth. Deciding her faded blue jeans that were tattered at the bottom, loose fitting black t-shirt and her slip-on black flip-flops were okay, she took one last gulp of luke warm coffee and headed out her hotel door.

*ding*

The elevator doors opened. Cilla stepped into the lobby of The Grand Piazza and smiled at one of the employees as he passed her carrying another guests luggage into the elevator. She asked the clerk behind the counter which way the restaurant was and followed the direction he pointed. She instantly felt underdressed as she took notice of what everyone else was wearing. With a sigh, she hesitantly asked the garcon if her attire was okay.

"Yes Ma'am. Any guest of The Grand Piazza is welcomed in the restaurant as well."

Even as his comment was meant to relax her, she couldn't help but feel as though people were already starting to stare at her and her clothes of choice. "Oh well, if they don't care for comfort, it's their loss."

"Excuse me, Ma'am?", the garcon asked with a smile.

"Nothing, nothing, just talking to myself.", Cilla replied with the same smile as she followed his lead to a table.

She ordered her meal and watched the people carry on about their lives in the restaurant, as she waited for the arrival of her food. An elderly couple sat in a far corner quietly, no doubt comfortable enough with each other, there is no need for mindless chatter anymore; a youngster, probably two or so she thought was giving his mom a hard time throwing bread across the table; two men talked business at a near-by table, both in 3-peice suits, "But the reports show a steady increase in the sales, Charles, how can you deny those?", retorted the taller of the two men. Opposite him, Charles, a handsome man looking to be in his late thirties, sighed outwardly, "I give up with you Stan, just because the charts show a rise in profits...", Cilla turned her attention away from their debate as she spotted the waitor coming towards her with her food.

**********

Cilla walked out of the Grand Piazza very sated and full. The food was exquisite as though the chef had honed in on her tastebuds and prepared her dish to fit perfectly with her desire. She looked to her left and right trying to make a decision on which way to go, seeing that traffic was busier down, what looked to be, the main street in town she headed that way. Anticipation moving through her with each step.

(( OOC: Lock Please. Will be continued in The Strip ))