Who: Lucy and Open (or narrative) When: Friday around 3pm What: TBD (Totally open to changes. Just let me know.) Where: The Diner Rating: TBD Status: in/complete
Lou’d been putting in some serious hours to try to make up for the last week at the diner, but schedules were something that only worked on paper when it came to a family-run business. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she owed them hours or if they owed her. It wasn’t a tally that’d ever be fully tracked. She pitched in when they needed. They covered for her when she needed space. But after the dramatics of earlier in the week, she was doing a fairly good job of keeping her head down and getting her work done. Either way, she’d come in early that morning and ten hours on her feet minus breaks was just about all that could be asked of anyone. That was the one problem with doing the baking; she had to get there before opening so there’d be something to sell in the mornings. She refused to add the kinds of preservatives that would be necessary to serve stuff from the day before.
With the lunch crowd cleared out and then some, Lucy’d gone behind the counter, pulled off her apron, grabbed herself a muffin, and went to sit and enjoy it at one of the little tables by a window. A sigh escaped her lips as her body reported to her just how unhappy it was with how she’d been pushing it. This was why she invested in things like bubble bath. She needed her feet forgive her so that she could work again the following days. For now though, she could enjoy simply sitting and having a snack. She’d wait until later to begin the negotiations to demand her legs to carry her out to her car.
Lou even went as far as to lean against the window, her high ponytail swaying with the motion before coming to rest too. Home away from home. She probably spent more time here anyway. It was a pity they charged her so much just to have a room to sleep in. If only she could fold up into a drawer and get tucked away at night. She really was tired if her thoughts were rambling like this, she thought to herself. She should have gotten a glass of orange juice. Oh, well. It wasn’t worth getting up again. Here was nice. She could stand to stay right here for a little while.
She could see her breath fog against the glass, letting that take her focus. She was in a calm, sleepy state. She’d earned it. Maybe she’d even go home for a nap before going out tonight. That sounded like the perfect plan to her. Once she got moving. Until then, she breathed again and smiled as the window once again went opaque. It was the kind of thing that entertained 3 year olds. Today, she thought the kids were on to something.