If a person was going to get lost in any major US city, Boston was really the best place. It was a walking city, full of legendary historical sights, brilliant architecture and clever sandwich boards stuck in front of bars that advertised an early happy hour. For someone who had lived a half hour outside of Boston her entire life, Charlotte really was unfamiliar with it--whether it be the street names, the layout of the city, or even the parking laws, the dark-haired girl was in over her heard every time she came for a visit. Her fish-out-of-water status never deterred her from having a good time, but she often found herself wishing that just one trip would go according to plan and that she could go from point A to point B without any unexpected detours in between.
It was a particularly balmy afternoon as Charlotte passed yet another Irish bar on her way to meet some friends for brunch. There was a neon shamrock glowing in the window, and a sign that let everyone on the street know that they served Sam Adams. The information, although possibly useful at a later date, served no purpose to Charlotte, and she found herself growing rather frustrated with her inability to accurately read a map. Frowning to herself, the slight twenty-something dug into her purse for her phone, already caving and ready to pull up Google Maps for a quick rescue. Inwardly, she cursed the very existence of her friends for not choosing a restaurant closer to home, but they had insisted that the Bloody Mary's at this new place were well worth the drive.
"That's debatable," Charlotte complained under her breath as she copied and pasted the address from her text messages over to the Maps app and waited for walking directions. Her brows knit together in another frown as she took note of the time and realized that if she didn't find this allegedly magic restaurant with equally magical drinks within the next five minutes, she was going to be late. Cursing under her breath, Charlotte put all of her faith into the blue Maps arrow and headed north at a brisk pace. She was determined to be on time for brunch and drinks.
Walking quickly, Charlotte focused almost all of her attention on the screen of her phone. Occasionally, she would look up to check the name on a street sign, needing to make sure that she was going the right way this time. Between her obsessive checking and side-stepping other people on the sidewalk who were just barely noticed by her periphreal vision, the dark-eyed young woman took no notice of what, or who, was right in front of her until she ran directly into someone.
There was a short gasp, and Charlotte fumbled with her cell phone as she felt the splash of warm coffee hit her shins and then soak her gladiator sandals. She cringed as she saw her lifeline lying screen side down in a puddle of Boston's most famous beverage before finally lifting her eyes to the stranger whose day she had just complicated. "I am so sorry," she apologized, her eyes wide and shocked. A cliche was the last thing she had expected to encounter that afternoon, but there she stood with a rough-looking stranger. "I um....I wasn't watching where I was going and," she shook her head and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear for something to fidget with. "I'm really sorry."
Charlotte hoped that this guy wouldn't flip out on her, because he did look a little scary. All those tattoos clearly said something about him, and she didn't want to mess with him. Although her cell phone was probably a lost cause, she was willing to give him the money for a fresh coffee without expecting anything in return. While her mind was on it, she reached down to pluck her cell phone from the cooling puddle.
It was a particularly balmy afternoon as Charlotte passed yet another Irish bar on her way to meet some friends for brunch. There was a neon shamrock glowing in the window, and a sign that let everyone on the street know that they served Sam Adams. The information, although possibly useful at a later date, served no purpose to Charlotte, and she found herself growing rather frustrated with her inability to accurately read a map. Frowning to herself, the slight twenty-something dug into her purse for her phone, already caving and ready to pull up Google Maps for a quick rescue. Inwardly, she cursed the very existence of her friends for not choosing a restaurant closer to home, but they had insisted that the Bloody Mary's at this new place were well worth the drive.
"That's debatable," Charlotte complained under her breath as she copied and pasted the address from her text messages over to the Maps app and waited for walking directions. Her brows knit together in another frown as she took note of the time and realized that if she didn't find this allegedly magic restaurant with equally magical drinks within the next five minutes, she was going to be late. Cursing under her breath, Charlotte put all of her faith into the blue Maps arrow and headed north at a brisk pace. She was determined to be on time for brunch and drinks.
Walking quickly, Charlotte focused almost all of her attention on the screen of her phone. Occasionally, she would look up to check the name on a street sign, needing to make sure that she was going the right way this time. Between her obsessive checking and side-stepping other people on the sidewalk who were just barely noticed by her periphreal vision, the dark-eyed young woman took no notice of what, or who, was right in front of her until she ran directly into someone.
There was a short gasp, and Charlotte fumbled with her cell phone as she felt the splash of warm coffee hit her shins and then soak her gladiator sandals. She cringed as she saw her lifeline lying screen side down in a puddle of Boston's most famous beverage before finally lifting her eyes to the stranger whose day she had just complicated. "I am so sorry," she apologized, her eyes wide and shocked. A cliche was the last thing she had expected to encounter that afternoon, but there she stood with a rough-looking stranger. "I um....I wasn't watching where I was going and," she shook her head and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear for something to fidget with. "I'm really sorry."
Charlotte hoped that this guy wouldn't flip out on her, because he did look a little scary. All those tattoos clearly said something about him, and she didn't want to mess with him. Although her cell phone was probably a lost cause, she was willing to give him the money for a fresh coffee without expecting anything in return. While her mind was on it, she reached down to pluck her cell phone from the cooling puddle.