drabble drabble drabble
come on guys, not reading your flist is no excuse not to give me drabble prompts :((
・ you make me feel like i'm crawling out of my skin, pikame.
・ pretty lady, be my lady, jin/horikita maki
・ death or cake, j2 (buno puntos for anyone who gets the reference)
・ she's a bad girl, i know, kuroki meisa/kame
・ the epic battle between good (jpop) and evil ( ( Read more... )
・ you make me feel like i'm crawling out of my skin, pikame.
・ pretty lady, be my lady, jin/horikita maki
・ death or cake, j2 (buno puntos for anyone who gets the reference)
・ she's a bad girl, i know, kuroki meisa/kame
・ the epic battle between good (jpop) and evil ( ( Read more... )
Pat always gets her coffee at the starbucks near her office during her morning break. Knowing she'll be stepping away from her desk and all the crazy powerpoints they ask her to make is great, but not as wonderful as knowing that there will be coffee, her one true love, waiting for her at the end of her journey. That cup dancing in her head, hot and ready for drinking, that gets her through everything the workday can throw at her.
On Monday, Pat really needs it. First of all, it's a Monday. Mondays, as anyone, working or student knows, are the absolute worst days of the week because of the harsh reality of them. The memory of the weekend and relaxing and fun is still fresh in your mind, but you know it's five whole days before you can do it again. That's on top of the early morning, and, you know, the working part.
Second, this Monday in particular is a real bitch of a Monday. One of her colleagues, one who has some important numbers she needs, calls in sick. Pat spends two hours scrambling to recreate numbers that already exist, that she knows someone who sits two desks over has, somewhere, if only they could get her on the phone long enough for her to tell them where. Then, after that, just as she's getting ready to make her desperately needed coffee run, already imagining the latte--she can almost taste it--one of her bosses comes in with some kind of emergency. Only it's not really, it's just panic with the deadline, and Pat, she needs her coffee now before she throws someone else's PC monitor out the window.
Pat practically sneaks out, because she knows--she knows--with a day like today, if anyone else sees her, they'll wait her to do something and it, whatever it is, 'can't wait,' except it totally can. Pat's not having any of that. Not before her coffee. So she sneaks out of the office and heads to her favourite starbucks.
It's closed. Pat closes her eyes and opens them up again, because surely she's dreaming. She was here last Friday. It was open then. But no, still closed. And not just closed as in not open, but closed closed, as in out of business. There's a piece of paper pasted up on the door, pale against all the dark lights of what is supposed to be her office starbucks. Pat gets close enough to read it. Due to corporate decisions beyond our control, Starbucks will no longer be servicing the country of Brazil.
This is so far past unacceptable Pat doesn't even have a word for it. She's going to go back to the office and find out who's in charge of Starbucks. Then, she's going to kill them.
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