[The man looks down the list and glances back up at them.]
Samantha Mueller?
[He sounds incredibly doubtful that Johnnie would answer to that name, but Chrissy is quick to laugh like a cheerleader and sound incredibly ditzy as she tips her head to the side and extends her hand.]
That's me, actually? Like, I go by Sam. But my real name is Samantha. Obviously.
[The host's expression softens a fraction, but he still seems skeptical.]
Do you have ID on you, miss?
[Chrissy heaves a big sigh and rolls her eyes. If there's one thing she's well trained on, it's how bitchy cheerleaders can act when they feel entitled to something.]
No? I don't need to drive, I have my dad. And my boyfriend. Duh.
[The host glances back down at the list, then back at them, then over to the line that's forming behind them. He locks eyes with Chrissy, who doesn't blink or back down. Instead she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts like a spoiled brat.]
Look, you can go get the manager. Daddy said that if we had any trouble to ask for Mr. -
[That makes his eyes go wide and he shakes his head.]
No reason to ask for Mr. Ziegler, Miss. Right this way, your table is ready.
[Well, at least now they know the manager's name so she can pretend her daddy told her to ask for him. That could come in useful if their waiter is stuffy too. She glances back at Johnnie with a smirk and takes hold of his hand as they follow the host inside. Hell yeah, they're about to get some top notch seafood.]
no subject
Samantha Mueller?
[He sounds incredibly doubtful that Johnnie would answer to that name, but Chrissy is quick to laugh like a cheerleader and sound incredibly ditzy as she tips her head to the side and extends her hand.]
That's me, actually? Like, I go by Sam. But my real name is Samantha. Obviously.
[The host's expression softens a fraction, but he still seems skeptical.]
Do you have ID on you, miss?
[Chrissy heaves a big sigh and rolls her eyes. If there's one thing she's well trained on, it's how bitchy cheerleaders can act when they feel entitled to something.]
No? I don't need to drive, I have my dad. And my boyfriend. Duh.
[The host glances back down at the list, then back at them, then over to the line that's forming behind them. He locks eyes with Chrissy, who doesn't blink or back down. Instead she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts like a spoiled brat.]
Look, you can go get the manager. Daddy said that if we had any trouble to ask for Mr. -
[That makes his eyes go wide and he shakes his head.]
No reason to ask for Mr. Ziegler, Miss. Right this way, your table is ready.
[Well, at least now they know the manager's name so she can pretend her daddy told her to ask for him. That could come in useful if their waiter is stuffy too. She glances back at Johnnie with a smirk and takes hold of his hand as they follow the host inside. Hell yeah, they're about to get some top notch seafood.]