For himself, Nathaniel ordered cheese enchiladas and a queso puff and a water. Usually the dinner came with a beef burrito, but Nathaniel despised beef so he asked for a third enchilada instead, although making it through just one would be difficult and now he had to decide if he was going to try to bring the rest home with him or not. Minor things could consume Nathaniel's thinking.
Once the menus were out of the way, it was easier to think more clearly and not obsess too much over having to waste styrofoam later.
No, he'd just focus on John. He forcefully ceased his tapping on the table and his bouncing leg. Had John seen his accent? Possibly. Was he really interested in where he came from? Did it matter?
"Uhm," the young doctor started intelligently. "It's a small community in Northern England called Wiltshire. I'm from a village there." Was he to return the question? Yes. Yes, that was polite. "Are you from here, John? Not the restaurant, but California." Smooth.