Psychic Week is definitely messing with everyone's head
PG | IN-PROGRESS
Panorama Diner didn't have the most... usual food, but PJ had found that she enjoyed some of it. And they had some decent coffee at the very least. Which was partly why she was making her way into the very diner itself, mind bouncing between why the hell she was hearing some quite embarrassing thoughts to the smell of food itself.
"Good God if I hear one more thought about sex I might scream. I know I'm a Cupid, but fuck...
She didn't neessarily disagree with the fact that there were some substantially gorgeous people here. And no, she would definitely not turn down some fun if it was offered... but damn. She had her own head to live in, she did not need to be living in everyone else's.
There had never been another time that PJ was thankful telepathy was not a part of the Warren Witches powers. Or a Cupid's. At least, not her. This whole weekend so far had just been one weird or worried or random thought after another and PJ just wanted all the voices out of her head stat.
Settling in at the bar, she tried to push all the extra thoughts that weren't her own — the ones she could decipher anyway — out of her mind as she ordered her food. From the uncertainty of the man at the table behind her to the annoyance of the blonde waitress taking her order. And... a need to run?
Her order was quick — a piping hot mashed taters over salt, grilled cheese please, bacon 'n' bacon, and a funday fudge sunday with a side of french toast and coffee. She was hungry and she didn't care who knew it. She also hadn't eaten all day, having spent most of today at the auto body shop working on a few cars.
It took a little while, but when her food was placed in front of her, she damn near applauded the cook and waitress.
"Dear God, YES. Piping hot carbs and starches... come to mama."