|Lindsey McDonald (stopitevilhand) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2010-03-18 20:12:00
|lindsey mcdonald, tara maclay
Who: Lindsey McDonald and Tara Maclay
What: Randomly running into each other.
When: Sunday, October 18th, afternoon
The flow of customers in and out of the diner on any given weekday was steady, but once the weekends hit, breakfast became mayhem. Sunday mornings were the worst of the two, people taking their families out for breakfast after church, gaggles of little old ladies, and the usuals lined up down the counter, drinking cup after cup of coffee. It was the job that had put him through his first four years of college all over again.
The problem with that was he'd gone so far beyond that, that returning to those roots now pissed him off. He'd been Wolfram and Hart's golden boy, the guy who had almost taken out the legendary Angelus, part of the team that had pulled off one of the greatest blindsides of the Senior Partners in recorded history. Now he was cleaning off dishes and when the cook ordered, taking orders in a small side street diner. It was rent money and it put food on the table.
As soon as his shift was over, Lindsey picked up his share of the tips and headed out while things were quiet. It would have been his luck that he would have been pulled back in for an hour or two if another mad rush hit. No thanks. He was done and out for the day.
He tucked the bills into his back pocket, his free hand searching his coat pockets for his phone. While his head was down, he felt his shoulder smack something else. "Sorry," was the first word he got out, looking up. If it was some inanimate object, he was going to feel stupid.