Trip to Olive Garden

It was dark in Bellingham, and the gang was hungry. They were in the rental van and hadn't left the parking lot. Abbacchio was the driver, but he awaited Bruno's directions while the others were bored and hungry. The white-haired man tapped his fingers on the stirring wheel, trying to entertain himself.

"Bucciarati, couldn't we just go to the nearest restaurant?" Fugo asked.

Bruno pointed at the KFC. "You want to go there?"

"No, not fast food."

Trish had a look of disgust and stuck her tongue out. "Ugh, I hate KFC."

"I hate KFC and Popeyes," Sheila added.

"I miss the food at home," Narancia said, sounding depressed.

"Same," said Abbacchio. "How about Olive Garden?"

Bruno looked at him with a humorless face. "That's a joke, right? All these restaurants you won't find elsewhere, and you want to go to a chain restaurant?"

"I—"

"I heard Olive Garden isn't good," Giorno interrupted.

Abbacchio scowled, turned around in his seat, and glared at him. "Shut up, Giorno!" He faced his boyfriend. "Don't you want to find out what their food tastes like?"

"Well, I supposed we could try," Bruno said. "Okay, let's go."

Abbacchio drove off, heading to Olive Garden.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the parking lot was packed, but Abbacchio managed to find a spot to park the car. Unfortunately, someone was waiting for that spot and angrily honked at him. When the gang exited the van, Abbacchio calmly stuck a middle finger at the angry driver while they crossed.

"Really?" Fugo commented. "What if that guy would've run us over?"

"Maybe that's what you'd do," he replied. "But I doubt he would."

Inside, lots of people filled the restaurant. Servers bounced from place to place, asking and giving people their orders.

Abbacchio examined the room. "Why are there so many children? Shouldn't they be at home doing..." He struggled to remember what kids do. "Homework or something?"

"Christmas vacation," Giorno and Fugo answered.

Bruno approached the hostess. Her hair was black, and she had brown eyes. She wore a black uniform and bright red lipstick.

"Greetings and happy holidays!" she greeted with a smile.

"Hello," Bruno greeted her back. "A table for eight, please."

"I'd love to seat you right away, but unfortunately, we're packed. Please wait for at least ten—" A group of eight headed for the exit, catching the hostess' attention. "Thank you! Come again! You will be seated soon."

They waited for a minute.

"Alright, follow me," she said, bringing them to a clean table with plates and dining utensils.

Abbacchio sat next to Bruno, and Bruno sat next to Giorno, who also sat next to Fugo. On the other side, Sheila faced Abbacchio and sat next to Trish. Next to her was Mista, who sat next to Narancia. The hostess handed them the menus.

"Your server will arrive shortly," she said before leaving.

Abbacchio skimmed through the menu, and the grilled chicken Margherita grabbed his attention. He'll get it, along with the red blend porta vita. While the others thought about what entree they wanted, Abbacchio scanned the room again. The place was nice, though it could have more art. It was also loud and noisy, though, and why were so many children crying? Ignoring the rabble, he looked at Bruno.