Risotto (The Risotto Chronicles, Part III)

We’ve found the word “Risotto” in a google/yelp/whatever search, and we are off to Times Square. For the uninitiated, Times Square is nowhere near Little Italy.

Me: Fuck, I hate Times Square.

Kirill: I love it

Me: It’s, like, almost dark outside and I feel like I need… oh! Look at that.

Me, putting on sunglasses: Wow that is so much better. This artificial light is bonkers.

Kirill: RISOTTO. I HAVE FOUND IT.

Me: Awesome.

Kirill: This is so pricey.

Me: We’re in Times Square, what did you expect?

After some debate, we go into the restaurant and get seated.

Kirill: Oh no

Me: What’s wrong?

Kirill: This is all seafood. I already ate seafood Risotto this week.

Me: So what? You can’t eat the same meal twice in a week?

Kirill: You don’t understand. I need something meaty.

Me: We can go somewhere else.

Kirill: But we’ve already been seated. That makes us assholes.

Me: Dude. They haven’t served us. They haven’t even brought out water yet. Let’s just go

Kirill: No! We can’t. We shan’t. It would be an abomination

Kirill: I don’t want this menu, let’s go.

Me: That’s what I thought.

Kirill spent the next two minutes apologizing to the staff.

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