“Blues! You made it!” Pinkie Pie said excitedly.
The pink mare greeted the blue stallion in the lobby of Sugar Cube Corner. It was halfway into noon and every pony was, or should be, having lunch around this time of day.
“Of course I did. I said I would, remember?” Blues greeted as the mare bounced at his presence.
“Uh huh. And you’ve kept that promise ever since,” Pinkie Pie said, unable to hold in her anxiety.
“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he quoted, each verse performed with a spare arm.
“You know it!” she took in his hoof and pulled him to a nearby table, “I’ll get us some sandwiches from the fridge. Just sit tight here.”
“Uh, actually Pinkie,” Blues said before Pinkie could go behind the counter, “I thought I would buy lunch today.”
“Oh?” she looked back at him.
“My treat. Just thought we could try something different today,” he said with confidence unusual of him.
“Oh really? Where to?” she asked as he stood from the table.
“Horte Cuisine.”
“That fancy restaurant by the Sofas and Quills shop? Isn’t that expensive?” she asked worriedly.
“A little bit. I just thought it was something we could try,” he said on his way to the door.
“Oh. Well, okay then. I’ll save the sandwiches for tomorrow,” Pinkie Pie said as she hopped with Blues out of the Sugar Cube Corner. Before she went any further, she shouted back to the store, “Mrs. Cake! I’m going out for lunch today!”
“Alright, have fun, sweetie!” the baker in the shop spoke back.
“Hey, I can’t be gone after one o’ clock, alright?” Pinkie asked worriedly to Blues, “We have a massive cheesecake order tonight.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We won’t take long, I hope,” he said as they walked further into Ponyville.
The two ponies had reached the eatery and were already seated at one of their tables. As few ponies were seated already, given the price of their foods, the waiter got to them fairly quickly.
“What are you having?” Pinkie asked.
“Hmm, I’m liking the oats and spinach salad here,” Blues said, folding the menu, “I’ll have that with a side of hay fries.”
“And for you, miss?” the waiter stallion asked.
“Umm…” Pinkie wouldn’t normally hesitate placing an order on the biggest and sweetest item on the menu, but her primary concern was how Blues was going to pay for their meal and have some bits for himself when he got back home. She scanned the menu for something filling and sweet, yet cheap enough for Blues to pay.
“Pinkie, would you like the fruit bowl?” Blues suggested, “It’s on the desserts page.”
Pinkie looked to the page he was referencing and saw the item in question. It was a bowl cluttered with chopped fruits from strawberries and apples to melons and bananas. It was also soaked in yogurt or cream of her choice as well as the option of additional toppings such as granola or coconuts. And the price was for as little as five bits, and thirty-five bits at most for the dinner course.
“Uhh, okay! I’ll have the fruit bowl, please!” she said happily.
“Yogurt or crème?” the waiter asked.
“Uhh, yogurt!”
“Plain or strawberry?”
“Uhh, plain?”
“Granola or coconut?”
“Umm, granola.”
“With or without raisins?”
“Uhh…with?”
“Would you like a loaf of bread with that?”
“…wow. So many options. I’m fine without bread.”
“Would you like for me to tab this order for future reference?”
“What does that mean?”
“He means you can order the exact meal the next time you come around,” Blues explained, “Like, ‘the usual, please’,” he said, with emphasis on imitating a poshly accent.
“Oh. Ok. No thanks,” she said to the waiter, “I’ll see after I eat.”
“Very well, then. Your orders will be ready within minutes,” the waiter said as he turned and walked back to the diner.
When he was out of earshot, Pinkie turned to Blues and giggled, “Wow, is all of the food like that?”
“Well, some of them are needlessly complicated,” Blues said, “But they keep their stuff variable so that first time eaters have free range of their choices.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that,” she remarked, “Have you been here before?”
“Well, I used to work here before,” he answered, “I was one of the waiters here once when I first moved here.”
“Why’d you quit? Did you get fired?” she asked, deeply curious.
“Nah. I left when I heard of an opening in the bar I work in now,” he explained, “I figured I’d be making the best money doing something that was in my talents. Or so I hoped…”
“Aww, don’t fret,” she comforted, “You’re the best saxophonist in Ponyville.”
“Well, I’m the only one as far as I know,” Blues corrected, “But thanks.”
The waiter came by with a bowl of cookies for the two. At his side was a cart full of bottles of soda, kettles of tea, steaming from their spouts, and boxes labeled as drinks, presumably to be kept cold. Cups hung to the side of the cart, glass cups and wine glasses as well as tea cups made up the assembly.
“Your appetizers,” he said, “A choice of drink?”
“I’ll have some green tea,” Blues said while Pinkie marveled at the variety of drinks, “With a drop of honey, please.”
“And for you, miss?” the waiter asked.
Pinkie snapped out of her trance and looked at the stallion, worried about the extra price, “Uh, it’s not gonna cost much, is it?”
“Your meals came with the drink, milady,” he answered.
“Oh, umm,” Pinkie pondered with a hoof on her mouth, “Can I have cherry cola?”
“Certainly.”
The waiter poured Pinkie Pie her drink in a glass with ice cubes in it, the soda fizzing as it reached the top. Blues drink was served in a rather large tea cup poured from a green kettle. A golden bubble was dropped into his drink from a spoon, presumably the honey he requested.
“Your meals will be ready in a few minutes,” the waiter said as he returned to the diner, toting the cart with him.
Pinkie freely took two hooffulls of cookies from the bowl while Blues only took one. The cookies were thin sugar wafers with a chocolate layer in between, swamping the mare’s mouth with a familiar sweetness. Blues took only two bites to finish his cookie, sipping his tea in between bites.
As Pinkie washed down with a sip of her drink, Blues took the last two cookies from the bowl before Pinkie could get to them. He finished off both cookies before Pinkie was done with her drink. He mostly wanted to keep the cookies to himself before the mare could snatch them away from him.
“Mmm,” Pinkie remarked, “Those were good. The Sugar Cube Corner doesn’t have those kinds of cookies.”
“Well,” Blues swallowed the last of the cookies before speaking, “This is a fancy restaurant meant to imitate Canterlot since we’re so close to them. It’s so that residents from over there can have somewhere familiar to eat at.”
“That’s smart. So those were fancy cookies?” she asked, sipping the last traces of her soda.
“I wouldn’t call them fancy. More like imitations,” Blues said, sipping his tea, “Real cookies like those have buttery wafers and fine chocolate, and can go for ten bits a piece.”
“Each cookie?” Pinkie reached for the empty bowl and began licking for crumbs.
“Yup. But they’re imitations, so they’re just sugar cookies and ordinary chocolate,” Blues sipped his tea, “Still great to have with tea, though.”
“I should pitch that idea to Mr. Cake,” Pinkie said, “Chocolate layered cookies, or maybe chocolate filled cookies. Oh! Chocolate glazed cookies!”
“Mr. Cake? Why not Mrs. Cake?” Blues asked curiously, “Actually, I don’t really know how the bakery works over there. Who’s the boss of that place?”
“Oh? I didn’t tell you? I guess we never brought that up,” the mare tapped a hoof on her chin contemplating how to explain the business she was a part of, “Umm, well.”
Before she could start, the waiter came by with a platter holding the salad and fruit bowl. He handed Blues his oat and spinach salad while giving Pinkie her, unexpectedly, large fruit bowl. As Pinkie marveled at the size of the bowl, the waiter asked Blues a question.
“Would you like vinegar to go with your salad? Bread croutons, perhaps?”
“Just a little vinegar, please,” he answered.
The waiter complied and poured a few ounces of vinegar on Blues’ salad.
“And for you, miss?” the stallion turned to Pinkie, who was still processing the size of her order, “Would you like a refill for your drink?”
Pinkie snapped out of her trance and looked to the waiter, then to the drink, then back to the waiter, “Oh, uh, sure. Refills are free, right?”
“They are,” he answered, then took Pinkie’s glass onto the platter, “I shall return with your refill.”
As he left, the two ponies began eating. Pinkie noisily slurped up the fruit in her dish while Blues ate his meal with a fork. The pink mare lifted her face from the bowl to breathe and chew. Her muzzle was slobbered in yogurt, but she quickly licked off the excess with an unbelievably prehensile tongue. All clean, she swallowed the fruit party in her mouth.
“So anyways,” she resumed the previous subject, “Sugar Cube Corner is run by Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Mr. Cake is the one who comes up with the new items and manages stock while Mrs. Cake does most of the baking and ordering.”
Blues swallowed to speak, “So, it’s a partnership?”
“And a marriage, of course,” Pinkie said, taking a strawberry in her mouth, “But they love each other more than they show it.”
“Heh. How cute,” he said, taking another sip of his tea, “So, what do you do?”
Pinkie had scooped another mouthful of fruit in her mouth. She swallowed and licked her lips, but she neglected a blot of white on her nose, “I mostly bake stuff to restock and manage any birthday parties the store has. We get lot’s of birthday parties for colts and fillies, so they leave that stuff to me, and it’s fun!”
“So you’re living a dream job?” Blues asked as he swept the last of the salad into his mouth.
“Yup! The bakery’s a lot of fun!” Pinkie proceeded to down the rest of her bowl into her mouth. She swallowed and licked the dish clean of yogurt in a matter of seconds, “Speaking of which, what time is it?”
Blues finished off his tea when the mare brought up the question, “Um, about five minutes to one,” he answered, “It’s time to go.”
Pinkie Pie became saddened at the time and how little they spent of it talking, compared to their average lunch break. They would usually chat while they ate her homemade sandwiches, listening to each other’s stories and experiences, and generally being very interested in each other. She didn’t like how they couldn’t do much of that this time.
But she couldn’t deject today entirely. Blues had wanted to do something different today, and he wanted to do it with Pinkie. She had never eaten here before as the eatery didn’t primarily have anything she was interested in. But she was glad she got to try out the place today, especially with Blues.
It was nice of him to buy their lunch here today. For a place with refined tastes and unique dining, he probably wanted to do something special for her this time. Of course she knew how little he managed to earn working at that bar late at night, so she was worried about coming here and making him spend too much with his already abysmal salary. Had it been a wealthier pony like Applejack or Rarity, she wouldn’t have hesitated on ordering the largest ice cream sundae they had available. But she was careful with Blues. She knew how delicate he was with everything they did. He always made sure she was happy even though she was the embodiment of happiness. Buying lunch for them at a place like this was obviously a surprise to her, but was it really necessary?
Maybe he wanted her to realize how important she was to him.
The waiter came back holding a platter with Pinkie’s cherry cola, “Your refill, miss,” he said.
“Uhh, actually, we were just about to leave,” she said to him, “Thanks anyways!”
“How much will that be?” Blues asked.
The waiter set the drink down and reached into his collar as Pinkie decided to sneak the drink away and steal a few sips, knowing it’ll go to waste. He retrieved a black booklet and opened it, “For the salad and fruit bowl, your total price is thirty-one bits.”
Pinkie proceeded to spit out the drink in her mouth in the other direction of the two ponies, “What?!”
“The fruit bowl you ordered was a dinner course, milady,” the waiter answered.
Pinkie then spat another rounded of cola from her mouth, “Whoa! Really?”
“Don’t worry, Pinkie. I got this,” Blues eased, “Do you take checks?”
Pinkie then spat the last of the soda from her mouth, “Checks? You got a bank account?”
Blues handed the check to the waiter, who smiled gratefully and took the now empty glass back onto his platter, “Yep. I’ve been working really hard lately, and the bar has been doing much better now.”
Pinkie spat soda again, “Wow! That’s great!”
The waiter looked at the empty glass on his platter and then back to the pink mare.
“C’mon. We gotta get back to the bakery,” Blues said as he stood up, “Thanks for the service.”
“Thank you for the meal!” Pinkie exclaimed as she bounced away with Blues.
“Err, you’re welcome,” he replied as he walked back to the diner in confusion.
The two were now outside of Sugar Cube Corner as it was seconds away from one o’ clock in the afternoon. Pinkie faced Blues as a nagging curiosity in the back of her head provoked the question.
“Hey, when did you get a bank account?” she asked.
“Well, about a week ago,” Blues replied, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “We’ve been getting a lot more frequent customers and I’ve been doing a lot of musicals with the other musicians there. Sometimes we get customers who don’t even buy anything.”
“Wow. Has your sax improved?” she asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say improved, but I can say the ponies enjoy my sound more, now,” he said, “Actually, I think they’re only coming for me, which is probably why I’m getting paid more.”
“That’s wonderful, Blues! You have been improving!” Pinkie said excitedly, “I feel energized to get back to work now!”
“You’re always energized,” Blues chuckled, “But I guess it’s because I have something to play for. I mean, I’ve been told that my tunes have more feeling to them.”
“More feeling?” she asked.
“I think it’s because you give me happiness, Pinkie,” he said as he inched close to the mare.
“R-Really?” she said, unable to hide a creeping blush on her face. She had never seen him so sure of himself before.
“Yeah. Your joy is contagious, you know,” he said, now close to her face.
“It…it is?” she could feel her heart pounding on her chest.
Blues finally leaned in on her face, closing the distance of contact.
“…”
He chuckled, “You had some yogurt on your nose,” he licked his lips a little.
Pinkie felt for the wet area on her nose. Realizing she was blushing like a tomato, she laughed jovially and returned to her cheery attitude.
“Wow Blues, for a minute there, I thought you were going to…” she said through chuckles.
“Going to what?” Blues asked. He had that sly smile on his face showing that he knew what it looked like.
“Hahhh, nothing,” Pinkie looked back to the bakery, “I gotta get back to work now.”
“Alright then. See ya later tonight?” he asked.
“Like always,” she replied, “Same time tomorrow?”
“Like always.”
