Working like a dog
Who: deservesabone, penetrable, fancy_shooting, steel_goddess. namiwasheretoo; OPEN
When: 3/14
Where: Club 24, Sector 1
Summary: A day in the life of a bar manager, open to anyone. More than one can tag in, just mention in the comment or header what time of day your character is showing up.
Warnings: None yet.
As the only 24 hour club in the district - and a well-stocked, well-run, eclectic club at that - Club 24 was a popular hot spot. No matter what time of day one stopped in, the place was bound to be alive and bustling with customers. Even the morning hours, which were generally considered the slowest part of the day, drew in enough people to keep servers on their toes and bottles clanking.
Come lunchtime the club was all but pulsing with life, and Sam could feel the beginnings of a headache thumping in time with it behind his eyes.
"Goddammit, Ryan!" His yell was barely competition for the music coming through the speakers, some new-age techno beat the shifter had no patience for. Still, it was loud enough to draw a sheepish look from one of his waiters, standing near a pile of broken plates and spilled drinks like a child caught sneaking cookies.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Mr. Merlotte, I was just--"
"No, I know exactly what you were doin' - you were showin' off for the girls again like a goddamn moron. This is the third time in two weeks! How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to use your wind powers to carry trays before it finally gets through to you?" Sam shook his head, aggravated. "Go get the dustpan and broom. I've already got Jerry takin' care of the vomit near the dance floor, so you're gonna have to clean this up yourself. --And no powers helpin' you do it, you hear me?"
The younger man scowled. "Just because you're a Norm and can't do anything..."
"You want to repeat that? 'Cause it sounds to me like if you've got time to sass back, you've got time to find another job. ...No? Then go clean up this fucking mess like I told you to."
Cowed, the server left to do exactly that, and Sam went over to the women whose food was littering the floor. In his most polite, managerial of tones, he apologized for the mishap and promised that their meal would be free. It was always painful to lose money, but worse still would be to lose repeat customers. Thankfully the table didn't seem too upset, and after thanking them for their patience with a faked smile Sam put the order back in with the cooks while he remade the drinks himself.
It was going to be a long day.
When: 3/14
Where: Club 24, Sector 1
Summary: A day in the life of a bar manager, open to anyone. More than one can tag in, just mention in the comment or header what time of day your character is showing up.
Warnings: None yet.
As the only 24 hour club in the district - and a well-stocked, well-run, eclectic club at that - Club 24 was a popular hot spot. No matter what time of day one stopped in, the place was bound to be alive and bustling with customers. Even the morning hours, which were generally considered the slowest part of the day, drew in enough people to keep servers on their toes and bottles clanking.
Come lunchtime the club was all but pulsing with life, and Sam could feel the beginnings of a headache thumping in time with it behind his eyes.
"Goddammit, Ryan!" His yell was barely competition for the music coming through the speakers, some new-age techno beat the shifter had no patience for. Still, it was loud enough to draw a sheepish look from one of his waiters, standing near a pile of broken plates and spilled drinks like a child caught sneaking cookies.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Mr. Merlotte, I was just--"
"No, I know exactly what you were doin' - you were showin' off for the girls again like a goddamn moron. This is the third time in two weeks! How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to use your wind powers to carry trays before it finally gets through to you?" Sam shook his head, aggravated. "Go get the dustpan and broom. I've already got Jerry takin' care of the vomit near the dance floor, so you're gonna have to clean this up yourself. --And no powers helpin' you do it, you hear me?"
The younger man scowled. "Just because you're a Norm and can't do anything..."
"You want to repeat that? 'Cause it sounds to me like if you've got time to sass back, you've got time to find another job. ...No? Then go clean up this fucking mess like I told you to."
Cowed, the server left to do exactly that, and Sam went over to the women whose food was littering the floor. In his most polite, managerial of tones, he apologized for the mishap and promised that their meal would be free. It was always painful to lose money, but worse still would be to lose repeat customers. Thankfully the table didn't seem too upset, and after thanking them for their patience with a faked smile Sam put the order back in with the cooks while he remade the drinks himself.
It was going to be a long day.