[restaurant; ren & hannah]
Ren raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. It was probably useful information to have under the circumstances, but he figured it was only fair to give the guy a chance to explain on his own, and while Ren didn't know if he'd be so very helpful, maybe he could be. But the curious look was chased by a smile and he looked over at her. "This wouldn't be a very good date if I spent all of my time on my phone," he told her. "I'm here to spend time with you and eat good food, so I'll message him, I promise, but it'll be after we eat."
Before he could think of a story the hostess stepped up, and he was able to give her his name, and they were taken to a table about halfway back in the restaurant. The decor, like the smells and the food, was eclectic, bright and perhaps even a bit gaudy, but the lighting kept things softer and more intimate. He slid into the booth and leaned his elbows on the table, reaching for the menu, but not really yet looking at it.
"One of my theatre friends showed me this place for the first time," he told her. "That was the first show I ever did, and we came here after, a couple of us altogether, and we ordered the tempura veggies and beers, and we sat probably until they closed. It became a tradition, really. Every opening night, we came here - cause it was bad luck otherwise," he laughed at himself. "Theatre people can be pretty damn superstitious - even if we're creating our own superstitions."