8D *a-blush*
Hail the unicorn!—another New Yorker with the uninhibited moxie to not only smile at, but let loose unsolicited praise to a complete and utter stranger. Even astride the rarity of a cute little ginger taking her chances alone at the epicenter of a carnivore's paradise, in a neighborhood capsized by bars and roving prides of slumming frat boys intending to get soaked in said bars, that gesture alone quartered Keram's attention.
"Yeah," came the cool reply, a limp clipping of that mountain of an impression. A curious humor roused the gaze that scaled her, and then the line, and next the bustling tables littered along the way, taking stock of actual circumstances before it traveled back to her face. Keram smirked, giving a nod ahead. " .. you draw the short straw .. ?"
He wasn't entirely aiming to confirm the possibility that Ginger'd come alone. The wait at Fette Sau was legendary, a veritable page out of the Book of Job, and one common tactic savvier patrons used entailed sending those of greater fortitude to stand in line, while the vultures of the group circled for seats in the first-come first-served dining room. Fists had flown, tears poured; Keram'd even heard tale of a stroller brandished above a head for the love of a rack of perfectly grilled Black Angus boneless beef ribs.
It'd be nice, he figured then, to piggy-back with a strategist.