[center][h1][color=#C84127]Yoska Petulengro[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=#C84127]T[/color]he young man seemed to shrink a little when approached by the waiter. It took him a moment to respond. He fumbled with the menu set on the table for a bit before pointing at the picture of the sandwich he wanted. 

"Can I get one of these for, um, take away please?" His accent was thick, and he stumbled over his words in his nervousness. The 'please' was tacked on to the end, as if he honest to god expected the man to tell him no. He ordered his food to go so that he could leave the cafe as soon as possible. The crowd was making him a bit too antsy.