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Zacharias Smith (unspeakableness) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Most of the time, Zacharias actually preferred to make his own meals. In the long run, he believed they saved him money. He also had far more control over quality than eating out, especially at a pub. However, that late afternoon, part of him was just too tired to cook. The thought made him feel even more exhausted than he already was. Besides, he wanted to see if there were any decent books today on the shelves of the bookcase at Finnigan's. He'd kill two birds with one stone, or so he hoped. If the food wasn't good this time, he wasn't going to pay. He believed in second chances, and sometimes even a third one, but there were only so many chances his patience -- and stomach -- could give out.

His first stop once he reached the pub was The Corner. He took his time reading the spines and some of the backs of the books available. Not very many were enticing,and he had to wonder who kept leaving the romance novels. He had half a mind to take them all just to see the shelves clear of them for once, but he decided against that. What would he do with all those novels? He didn't read those sorts of books. Could he donate them? Would any place even take them? Maybe he could get credit for them at a used bookstore somewhere far, far away from London. For the moment, he'd leave them be. However, if he actually found a place that would take them, well... It was something to think about.

After Zacharias had picked up a couple of interesting sounding books and put up a few he'd taken the week before, he made his way back through the pub. He preferred The Corner to just about any other place in the pub, but he thought he might get faster service elsewhere today. Besides, he really hadn't planned to spend all of his time after work on a Tuesday in a pub. That just wasn't his style. He found an empty table near a wizard he recognised as Justin Finch-Fletchley (they may not have been friends, but that didn't mean Zacharias didn't have the ability to recognise people he'd spend any amount of time around in his past), nodded to him, and sat down. He looked at a menu, then, when prompted, ordered a shepherd's pie and a butterbeer; simple, and hopefully it wouldn't leave him hanging off the toilet the rest of the night. As he waited for his food, he cracked open one of the books he'd just picked up, working on tuning out some of the noise around him.