The waiter allowed his eyes to dart nervously between the small inventor that had trotted into the cafe and the pretty mare flipping her mane beside him. While relaxed a bit by Star's efforts, it wasn't easy to get someone to forget previous chaos caused by the owner of Tech Tock. Still, he couldn't argue with her, so with a deep breath he tried again.

Customers.

They're just... customers...

"Okay," the waiter cleared his throat and picked a couple of menus from a desk near the front of the building, the ruffling of Hay's mane causing the little green stallion to blink a few times as if being brought back to the present and out of his thoughts, "Table for two. This way, please. We have a wonderful little table available snuggled over here in the corner." Moments later he'd led them to the promised spot, the smaller table being in a cozy spot and snuggled between some of the nicer arrangements of decor on either wall. Hay wasted little time in scooching in and onto one of the pillows where he flashes the others a smile and checks on bubo whom was still resting like a statue on Star's shoulder.

"Here you are," the waiter said, setting the menus he'd brought down in front of either pony, "I'll give you a moment to look through what we have to offer and to fetch you both some water," seeing another pony at a different table trying to get his attention, he tried to excuse himself as politely as he could, pausing only to lean back in with another shade of nervous over a small cringe, "... and please... don't try to "fix" anything. Okay?" flashing a desperate smile, in stark contrast to Hay's un-phased upbeat one, he then made himself scarce before something blew up.

Once he was gone, Haywire picked up his menu and quickly squinted his eyes at the names of the dishes.

"I couldn't pronounce this last time either I think..." he said, Bubo waiting until there was a moment where he was certain no one was looking before hopping down off of Star's shoulder and onto the table so as to nestle down in a spot on the table where he'd be out of the way of the coming meal, "non...nongi-nongio'l a... epous...? I have no idea what that is, or what the ingredients are on here." It didn't help that the menu he was holding was upside down, Hay's inability to really read or pronounce the Prench dish names properly preventing him from being able to notice the difference.

"I'll probably just get a sandwich again." He predicted with a shrug.