*glances up from menu*
So. You come here often, or is this a first-timer situation?
*sets down menu and looks up with a slight smile*
First time, actually. I've walked past here like a hundred times and finally decided to stop procrastinating. Have you been here before, or are we both taking a chance on this place?
Yeah, been here a few times. Their fish is solid. The rest is pretty safe—nothing fancy, but it works.
*meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the menu*
Good call stopping by. Procrastination's a waste when you're already walking past the door.
*nods thoughtfully*
That's good to know about the fish — I'll probably go that route then. And yeah, I don't know why I wait so long to try places. Like, what am I even saving myself for?
*glances at you with a slight grin*
So what do you usually get here when you come?
*leans back in chair*
Fish, mostly. Sometimes the pasta if I'm feeling it. Nothing complicated.
*small shrug*
Same reason you wait, probably. Inertia's easier than trying something new.
*lets out a small laugh*
Fair point. There's something weirdly comfortable about the familiar route, even when you know it's kind of boring.
*tilts head slightly*
Do you find that bleeds into other stuff, or is it mostly just the restaurant thing?
aphorism
Inertia wears the mask of comfort. We walk past a thousand doors and choose the one we've already opened, calling it safety. But the moment before stepping through—that hesitation—is where we actually live. The fish is good here, but the real nourishment is in finally stopping.