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No outdoor event is complete without a row of food trucks these days! You can find everything: Designer sushi for $24 a roll, vaguely horrifying “fried everything” truck, a Vegan Hot Dog with cucumber bun...Such possibilities! And it’s only like, a sea of people between you and lunch.
Street food, and food truck as it was similar, were his favorite sorts of food to eat. It wasn’t really a matter of what sort of food it was, or what country it was from, it was street food and it was always good in Fionan’s opinion...or well most of it was. He’d had some that hadn’t sat well with his stomach, he’d even had a case of food poisoning. But the fair, as with all fairs, would have food trucks and that was the only reason Fionan had come to the fair - to eat.
With plans of trying all sorts of food he’d brought money, a good amount of money, and that was where he headed the moment he got past the ticket booth after paying the entrance fee.
So many trucks and so many different kinds of food! It looked, and smelled, so damn good to him that the blond Irishman headed for the first truck which seemed interesting to him - Indian food. Looking over the menu, as there was a line so he had time to read over the menu they had posted, he glanced over what was in everything they were offering.
As he got to the front of the line Fionan already knew what he was getting, having made up his mind three people back, so as he got to standing in front of the window he was all set. The female, a very pretty woman, who was likely a few years older than him, asked him what he wanted and with confidence he answered her.
“Chhole bhature, aloo tikki
and….mirchi bajji.” He knew he was saying the names poorly, but he was trying, and he saw the female giggling and smiling over his attempts at pronouncing the food names. It was all good though because he was at least trying. It was, in his opinion, better and nicer than just saying ‘give me a number 1, 4, and a number 7.’ It was nicer to try and say the food names, even if he did butcher the names. He was at least trying, and if he liked them and found an Indian restaurant he’d learn the names, and she seemed to appreciate the attempt as she did correct him on one of them.
Thanking her he was smiling as she went to place his order. When she returned, giving him the price, he paid for the food and moved to the side to wait for the order to come up. He honestly couldn’t wait to get his first taste of Indian food...like what seemed to be honestly authentic Indian food...maybe it was what was considered street food there...maybe he’d look it up. That in mind he pulled out his phone to take a picture of the menu. He’d look up the foods later, especially if he liked them. If he liked them he’d need to find a place which made these, and find where the food truck normally parked to work on normal days.
While he waited Fionan watched two other people order, small orders of things they seemed unsure about. They asked about the foods, even though all the information you should need was on the menu, and found himself rolling his eyes. Running his fingers through his sweat dampened blond hair he moved right in the moment his order was announced. Grabbing the tray of food with a thank you, the female really was nice, he hurried to find a table and get his first bite of the food - it smelled amazing...and spicy. Ohhh this was going to be good!
(Word count: 604)
