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lovemykiltPriestly paused outside the sub shop, took a deep breath, then shoved the door open and strode in, arms out.
"Everybody relax!"
A blond girl he didn't know at the counter let out a small squeak of what might be terror. Mr. Julius -- who'd probably seen him coming from his spot by the window -- ignored him. Trucker looked up from the grill, smiled, and said "Priestly! What the hell are you doing with your hair, these days?"
It was good to be home.
Priestly went up to the counter and hopped onto it, turning sideways to look at the blond, who was giving him sidelong "omg, is he crazy? Will he eat me?" type looks.
"You," he said. "I don't know you."
She squeaked again. Priestly wondered if he was laying it on too thick. Trucker threw an apron at his head.
"Priestly, this is Jen. She's building the shop's website. Jen, this is Priestly. He runs the grill, when he manages to get his ass back on the proper coast."
"Hey, man, I'm learning to relax and love the East Coast for all its strange weather and customs."
Jen eyed him warily. "You work here?"
"Well," said Trucker. "He's been employed here since last January. So far I haven't managed to get him to work at all."
Priestly clapped a hand to his chest and pretended to fall off the counter. "You wound me, man. Wound me."
Trucker flipped him a spatula. "Well, just don't bleed on the food."
"You're all love, Trucker." Priestly hopped down from the counter, unable to keep from grinning at the chance to actually show his friend his skills. "I can feel it."
[nfb, nfi, and all those usual letter combos.]
"Everybody relax!"
A blond girl he didn't know at the counter let out a small squeak of what might be terror. Mr. Julius -- who'd probably seen him coming from his spot by the window -- ignored him. Trucker looked up from the grill, smiled, and said "Priestly! What the hell are you doing with your hair, these days?"
It was good to be home.
Priestly went up to the counter and hopped onto it, turning sideways to look at the blond, who was giving him sidelong "omg, is he crazy? Will he eat me?" type looks.
"You," he said. "I don't know you."
She squeaked again. Priestly wondered if he was laying it on too thick. Trucker threw an apron at his head.
"Priestly, this is Jen. She's building the shop's website. Jen, this is Priestly. He runs the grill, when he manages to get his ass back on the proper coast."
"Hey, man, I'm learning to relax and love the East Coast for all its strange weather and customs."
Jen eyed him warily. "You work here?"
"Well," said Trucker. "He's been employed here since last January. So far I haven't managed to get him to work at all."
Priestly clapped a hand to his chest and pretended to fall off the counter. "You wound me, man. Wound me."
Trucker flipped him a spatula. "Well, just don't bleed on the food."
"You're all love, Trucker." Priestly hopped down from the counter, unable to keep from grinning at the chance to actually show his friend his skills. "I can feel it."
[nfb, nfi, and all those usual letter combos.]