A Little Taste of Italy...and Its Pizza {open}
Jul 24, 2010 18:50:07 GMT -5
Post by Karenza Lewis on Jul 24, 2010 18:50:07 GMT -5
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[/color] so hot we'll melt your popsicle •[/color]( [/color]CALIFORNIA GURLS )[/color][/size][/font]
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[/b][/SIZE][/blockquote][/blockquote]Utterly famished, Karenza had unpacked her suitcase, her hands trembling with excitement. It was her first day back at Gordon Parks' Academy for the Arts and she was loving every second of it. Granted she only knew one person very well, a very new thing for the bubbly, brunette. With her clothes folded neatly into her drawers and hours until it would be dark, she had decided to go off campus and see what there was to eat. It had been a longer flight than she'd expected from San Francisco to her school, and with the many nights she had spent staring at the school's website and thinking about all of the possibilities, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Now, tired and hungry, Karenza made her way into town, browsing through the streets. Her new wardrobe, purchased with the loving charity of her step-father, was not the most comfortable thing to walk in. She was wearing black peep toe high heels that were three, if not four, inches tall and excruciating on her ankles, and a loose dress. The dress was all right, with it's soft floral design, but the thin spagetti straps kept trying to wander down her thin shoulders. Luckily she'd decided to wear a bra with the dress, she almost hadn't because she didn't want to waste the time trying to find her strapless bra. Luckily, it didn't take long for Karenza to find Milano, the Italian restaurant that Nina had raved about. Since her favourite food was Italian, she figured that this was as good a place as any to get some dinner.
Practically limping into the restaurant she found that there was a small line up and it would take her ten minutes to get a table. She was hungry enough that that amount of time seemed like eternity, but for good pizza she decided to bear it. Wincing, she stood at the end of the line, glancing around for a place to sit to relieve the stress of her tight shoes. The booth-like seats that were for people who were waiting to be seated were filled with students, but she noticed a small gap at the end of one of the benches. Her feet were starting to get blisters and she was limping to avoid rubbing them further against the back of the shoes. "Do you mind if I sit here? she asked that student who didn't seem to have noticed her. "My feet are killing me."
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