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lovemykiltIt didn't take long for Priestly to get the rhythm of working the grill at Trucker's, even if he did get some odd looks from customers for suggesting different condiments and odd flavor combos -- or anything aside from yet another freaking spicy Italian (you'd think that was some ridiculous penis metaphor, the way some guys strutted around while ordering it). It took even less time, and a light smattering of self-effacing humor, for Jen to relax and start bantering back a little, and by Tuesday, they practically had themselves a routine, or at least enough of one for Trucker to grab a spot at the table in the back and try to get some Important Paperwork done.
Priestly was in the middle of coming up with reason number 33 Why Jen's Screen Name Is Secretly Really Dirty when the bell above the door jingled and in shuffled a pale figure in a dirty overcoat on a waft of ripe people-fumes. Trucker marked the occasion by looking up from his books and peering over the edge of his glasses. Jen sat up straighter behind the counter and offered the figure a small, genuine smile and asked if she could get him anything. The figure offered a handful of dirty nickels and Jen put together a small, healthy dinner for him and the figure took his food and smiled back and shuffled back out the door, into the night. Trucker stopped Jen from putting any cash in the drawer for the guy's meal and Jen looked down all embarrassed when Trucker came over to pat her on the shoulder and both of them looked over at Priestly, who was standing wide-eyed by the grill holding the biggest cast iron pot he could find.
Trucker frowned. "Are you okay?"
Priestly blinked and noticed what he was holding. He let out a slightly forced laugh. "Haha, yeah, I, uh. Thought he might be a zombie. Guess I'd better lay off the video games, huh?" He put the pot away, still laughing a little stiffly, and deftly diverted the conversation back to Jen's screen name implying she liked to buy strap-ons and be your "back-door lover". He figured the incident would be chalked up as yet another example of "awww, Priestly's so nutty!", and mentally reminded himself that in the "real world", smelly homeless guys were just smelly homeless guys, and generally preferred, say, deli-sliced ham to brains.
Damn you, Fandom Island, damn you.
[ooc: So a couple weeks ago I pointed out to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blondecanary that Priestly was always gonna be the guy who assumed it was a sick homeless guy, not a zombie. And then my brain went "would he? would he really?" and I answered "yes, but he'd probably still arm himself with a giant freaking skillet." Tada!
[NFB, NFI, OOC is welcome, yadda yadda.]
Priestly was in the middle of coming up with reason number 33 Why Jen's Screen Name Is Secretly Really Dirty when the bell above the door jingled and in shuffled a pale figure in a dirty overcoat on a waft of ripe people-fumes. Trucker marked the occasion by looking up from his books and peering over the edge of his glasses. Jen sat up straighter behind the counter and offered the figure a small, genuine smile and asked if she could get him anything. The figure offered a handful of dirty nickels and Jen put together a small, healthy dinner for him and the figure took his food and smiled back and shuffled back out the door, into the night. Trucker stopped Jen from putting any cash in the drawer for the guy's meal and Jen looked down all embarrassed when Trucker came over to pat her on the shoulder and both of them looked over at Priestly, who was standing wide-eyed by the grill holding the biggest cast iron pot he could find.
Trucker frowned. "Are you okay?"
Priestly blinked and noticed what he was holding. He let out a slightly forced laugh. "Haha, yeah, I, uh. Thought he might be a zombie. Guess I'd better lay off the video games, huh?" He put the pot away, still laughing a little stiffly, and deftly diverted the conversation back to Jen's screen name implying she liked to buy strap-ons and be your "back-door lover". He figured the incident would be chalked up as yet another example of "awww, Priestly's so nutty!", and mentally reminded himself that in the "real world", smelly homeless guys were just smelly homeless guys, and generally preferred, say, deli-sliced ham to brains.
Damn you, Fandom Island, damn you.
[ooc: So a couple weeks ago I pointed out to
blondecanary that Priestly was always gonna be the guy who assumed it was a sick homeless guy, not a zombie. And then my brain went "would he? would he really?" and I answered "yes, but he'd probably still arm himself with a giant freaking skillet." Tada! [NFB, NFI, OOC is welcome, yadda yadda.]