Characters: Rena and Thomas Setting: Madison's Pub Rating: E for everyone! (for now!) Summary: Just another evening at the pub.
It was a busy evening at the Pub and that was just the way Rena liked it. Perhaps at one point in her life she'd have found the bustle overwhelming but by now, the routine was old hat and she could keep pace with the best of them, minus the occasional spill here and there. In fact, she often helped trained the new help when they came in because, unlike many of the maids that came in, she hadn't left her post to marry and have a family, though, as she often joked, it wasn't for lack of drunken proposals. Many a drunk patron had declared he would take her to wife but each time, she'd laugh and proclaim that no man could handle the likes of her, accompanying response with another drink. Drunk as they were, it was hard to take them seriously and she doubted most remembered their declarations of undying love the next day. It was easy to love the pretty woman who supplied the drinks.
And so, ever unmarried, Rena was a fixture at the pub and after all those years, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. It was a far cry from any life she had expected, for sure, and most definitely drastically different from what her parents had planned for her but she found it strangely satisfying, particularly once she'd been removed from the kitchen and put out on the floor. She liked being among people and, fortunately for her, the people seemed to like her, too.
"Rena! Where's that dinner? I coulda cooked it m'self in all this time!" a man grunted across the room. His tone was gruff but that was his way; he never truly got angry beyond slamming his mug on the table with a little extra force than necessary.
"If you could have cooked it yourself you wouldn't be here," Rena reminded him with a laugh. "And if it was only halfway cooked, you'd holler at me all the same. How about another drink to tide you over?" she offered, raising an eyebrow. The man willingly surrendered his mug to her and she carried it back to the bar to be refilled, passing the request along as she took a moment to peek into the kitchen.
"How's dinner coming?" she called into the cook, who confirmed it was nearly ready, much to Rena's relief. It got a little crazy when the dinner was delayed overmuch and then the patrons would have to be distracted. She stepped back into the room, surveying the room to gauge who would need what.