Eventually, she is forced to actually acknowledge the fact that she hasn't eaten anything in like a full day and that she should probably do something about this. Is there any food in the apartment, or... what else would she even do, if there isn't?

There isn't any food in the apartment, unfortunately. She would have to... well, find someplace to eat. There's probably a cafe or a restaurant reasonably close.

Is there any option other than just, like, going outside and looking for something? No directories of nearby businesses or anything? In any part of the apartment? She'd look pretty thoroughly.

Looking thoroughly, again reveals that Meadow has nothing to prepare and nothing to eat at the moment.

Alright. Knowing she has a safe place to go hide in is a little reassuring, and she's had some time to rest. She can probably manage to briefly talk to someone. Was there a help desk in the apartment building lobby, or anything like that?

There wasn't a help desk in the lobby. There are quite a few cafes around, though, probably a few of them open. She could find someone in one of them, if she needed a help desk to answer her questions.

Okay, okay, fine, she'll actually go find a cafe instead of trying to see if anyone can deliver her food. Hopefully it will not be one of those cafes where there try to chat with you a lot.

Here's one that's vaguely sci-fi themed! Here's one that's more old-school, with lots of nice armchairs and wood and rugs! There's quite a few different cafes, with really different and nice interiors, for Meadow to choose from.

She is going to go for the most minimalist cafe she can find—she's used to that indicating that the place won't be trying to be overly familiar.

If there's nothing especially basic, she'll go for old-school over sci-fi, probably.

There's a hyper-minimalist cafe, all white tables and white chairs and sofas, with a few people talking and enjoying some fantastic-smelling food, together with a barista standing behind the counter.

Seems good enough. What's on the menu?

There's a bunch of teas, coffees and pastries made in the cafe itself, and they also have a menu with food from some nearby ghost kitchens, with the food being delivered to the cafe and eaten on site. There's pizza, thai, indian, really a near-endless variety for Meadow to enjoy.

She'll have a black coffee, and... probably a pizza? What pizza options are there?

Also, she's beginning to realize she might need to add yet another person to the list of people she needs to remember to pay back. She did not think that far ahead. But it's not like not eating is an option, so.

She can get a black coffee, and a pizza! In terms of pizzas, there's pepperoni, multiple cheese, with and without pineapple, extra spicy... and it keeps going on. It looks like people are using their phones to pay. So... Meadow is in a rather awkward spot, what with not having a phone from this world. She's not sure how the debt would work, here.

She has, at this point, caught onto the fact that a surprising number of people here are just totally okay with her paying them back later. Though this does mean she'll need to explain her situation. Yay.

Is sausage an option? She'll do that if it's there, and otherwise pepperoni.

She inhales deeply.

"Hey. Uh. My phone... isn't working... and I don't have access to basic income yet, and I haven't eaten in like a day. Would it be possible to just, pay you back, once I have... figured any of that out?"

Sausage pizza is, in fact one of the options! The barista smiles gently as she listens to Meadow. "Yes, miss. Nobody should have to go hungry just because they've bumped into some technical issues. I'll keep a tab for you, to be repaid once you get access to your basic income. Now, what do you want to have?"

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll have a black coffee and a sausage pizza."

"Let me just tap away on my phone, and have the pizza here in no time!" She taps a few times, before walking over to a machine that prepares a black coffee at lightning speed, walking back to give it to Meadow. She can see that there's a robot rolling around, with multiple shelves carrying food around and dishes back towards the barista.

She is going to sit down and take a big sip of the coffee under the assumption that no one would ever serve a customer a drink so hot that this would be especially unpleasant. How bad does this go?

Well, it's just a tiny bit hotter than Meadow would ideally want; she should probably let it cool off a bit more. The good news is that the coffee is... fantastic. Rich, complex, all the compliments you can think of. And it gives her a rush of energy; it seems to have something that makes the caffeine work even better.

She would be very glad that didn't go even worse, if she knew how coffee is often served on Earth. Which she doesn't. As is, she's mildly annoyed.

The taste and rush of energy are appreciated, but she was sort of expecting just a basic uninteresting coffee and is now mildly concerned about what drugs she's on, if it seems to not just be caffeine. But she doesn't actually decide to ask.

After 25 or so minutes of waiting, the sausage pizza rolls over on the waiter-robot, carried on the top shelf. She can easily take it off on its plate and place it in front of her. The pizza is also quite great, too. It's almost hot enough to burn her mouth, but not quite.

She would've liked to have Precisely The Brand Of Pizza She's Used To, but this pizza is good enough that she doesn't mind too much.

Are there easily accessible containers for leftovers? She will (with some difficulty convincing herself) try to save some if that is possible.

The barista can give her a bag to store some in, if that is what Meadow wishes to do.

Is she up for actually asking for something, if there aren't just bags sitting around for her to grab? The food is making her feel a bit better, and the coffee doesn't hurt. She can probably manage it.

She bags whatever amount of pizza she didn't eat, thanks the barista once again, and makes her way back to her apartment.

This particular outing did not actually leave her feeling exhausted and overwhelmed or anything. She's always had at least like fifty-fifty odds of having a good time when she leaves her apartment, plus or minus that tightening in her chest. This fact has never been enough to actually make her stop being scared of going outside—and even if that part of the problem were resolved, she'd probably still have motivational problems about it.