Who: Dawn Miller & Open When: Thanksgiving Where: On The Rocks What: Tending the bar
It was not as if Dawn did not have a place to go for Thanksgiving. Often when friends found out she was truly on her own, inviting her to join their family for dinner seemed almost reflexive. Dawn would decline, citing one or both of her part-time jobs as an excuse. She did it not out of guilt or feeling the invite came entirely from pity, but Thanksgiving often brought up memories of home. Not in a depressing way, though it did make her wist for her father's dried-out turkey and the way he could put any Macy's Day Parade commentators to shame. Too many thoughts of past Thanksgivings would put her in a state of melancholy, one that did not make for a decent guest to any party.
Working over the holiday seemed the only way she could get by without feeling alone or thankless. In fact, as she wiped away water marks from bar glasses fresh out of the dishwasher, Dawn felt oddly content. There was plenty to be thankful for, even though she had a few things she had to live without. She had smooth jazz playing over the loud speakers (Kenny G, naturally), and adjusted the dimmer switch on the lights to give the bar a warm glow. If she had to get anyone drunk, they'd have to deal with the ambiance she opted for. The odds were higher that most would find themselves a sports bar with the largest flat screens tacked on any space not covered with ticky-tacky, but with her current setup the possibility of having a shift all to herself didn't seem terrible. Walking home with no tips however...
Dawn had finished putting away the glasses for serving and was just about to redo the glasses for display when she heard the entrance bell chime. She slipped her toes back into her new high heels before peering over at the door to see who walked in.