Jenny Green week
Prompt: Growing up in Port Townsend
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The Peach Pit had been the only decent night spot in Port Townsend in the early aughts. The beer was cheap, they didn't card and the music... well, it wasn't really Jenny's style, but it was fine.
Jenny had kissed and fingerbanged her fair share of girls there in her wild teenage years. And then she'd watched as all her peers drifted apart, either settling down and marrying men or moving far, far away.
It had closed, a few years back. Like the mall, and the roller skating rink before it. Because god forbid young people have a place to hang out and dance and make stupid choices.
And now some out of towner is refurbishing it. He recently removed the battered old painted sign and installed a new one: a neon peach. Jenny can't decide if that's rude as hell or a cute nod to the history of the place. But she has to respect him for commissioning the local glass blower, the same guy she'd used when her dad died and unexpectedly left her The Tongue and Tail. Nothing says "meat is cool now, kids" like a neon cleaver.
At the very least, a big glowing peach was smart marketing. It would probably get some traction on social media, maybe even go mildly viral. Like and subscribe to my fucking produce store... what a depressing thought. She must be getting old.
It's going to be a restaurant, it turns out. The Salty Peach, which sounds kind of dirty to her, but whatever. She learns this when the new owner turns up at the Tongue and Tail with a bouquet of herbs and a handwritten note inviting her to dinner.
Strictly professional, he says with a smile, to see if she'd like to become one of their suppliers, maybe even collaborate on a dish. A tongue and oxtail soup, for instance? To shed light on the less loved cuts, and encourage people to eat mindfully and sustainably.
Jenny begrudgingly accepts that she might have just made a friend. It doesn't hurt that he's covered in tattoos and obviously extremely queer.
The first bite of steak seals it. Rare and succulent, beautifully seasoned, served with chestnut mashed potato and jus. Jenny tries not to make it weird by moaning but fuck.
They toast their new partnership with a bottle of red.
There are worse things than getting old, Jenny thinks.
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