Author: Maxwell Granger
Date: 05-24-11 08:31
It had been a long day, Max reflected, and promised to be an even longer night. Jet lag, or perhaps the opposite of jet lag, had set in and, restless, he wandered down to the hotel bar. It was still warm despite the rapidly purpling sky outside and the fans that turned lazily in the bar's ceiling. What he could really do with, he decided, was a drink.
Like Maxwell, Peter was restless. Everything felt wrong - this was the wrong kind of heat, the wrong smell and taste to the air. It struck him more here than it had in the States.
He crumpled into a seat at the bar, and raised a hand to signal the bartender. Looking over, he finally noticed Maxwell. "Think they serve anything like food? I mean, that's safe to eat?"
"Haven't a clue," Max admitted. He sank into the seat beside the Australian. "But I hope so. I'm starving. Una cerveza, por favor," he said to the bartender as he approached. He glanced over at Peter. "Beer good for you too?"
“Safe?” Gavin asked as he approached the bar. “You mean, as in doesn’t bite back, or doesn’t leave you on the bathroom floor.”
Max looked over his shoulder. "Both, really," he said. "I don't really want to spend the rest of this trip in the lavatory." He gestured to an empty barstool. "Care to join us?"
Zack walked into the lounge, looked around and saw the others gathered at the bar.
"Hey, fellas! What's for dinner? I'm starved!"
“But of course,” Gavin grinned, dropping his wait onto the seat. He turned to look at Zach and gestured to their two companions. “That subject is up for debate,” he answered. “I suppose it depends on what your stomach can handle.”
Max laughed. "Let's find out," he said.