where: dotty’s corner café !
She had been trying to get the dishwasher to turn on for several minutes now, and every attempt seemed to conclude with a horrible sucking noise straight out of Dotty’s nightmares. The dishwasher itself was her newest purchase and it had arrived with the promise to save up to 37,000 gallons of water a year if she used it right. Dotty was just glad she didn’t need to keep doing all those dishes by hands. The mugs were adorable, sure but her hands were so dry! And she was running out of lotion, which was the true crime here.
None of that, though, solved the issue of the dishwasher and its absolutely disgusting noise. The frown that had marred Dotty’s face since she had excused herself through the mint-green swinging doors that proudly proclaimed “employees only” over them remained firmly entrenched on her face. “I really thought this would be easier,” she muttered to herself, bending down. “I swear I read all the instructions and – Oh!”
Standing up so fast that her head nearly collided with the bottom of her new purchase, that frown had morphed into a smile. “It needs water in that compartment!” Smiling to herself, and firmly resolving to never, ever tell Derek or her father about this, she pressed the switch that said “fill” in neat letters, slid the first rack of mugs into the dishwasher as they all chatted merrily to themselves, closed the door with more force than she needed, and started the machine.
That was plenty of work for today, she though, but before she could do much of anything, the bell above the door chimed merrily out front. Dotty sighed, smoothed out a few wrinkles in that absolutely adorable pink apron she had fought to get into this place, and walked back through those doors, her best smile already gleaming on her face.
“Hi there! Welcome to Dotty’s Corner Café, where we’re working to save the planet one straw and plastic lid at a time!” The words flowed off her tongue. Dotty had had plenty of practice with them by now, but more than that, she wanted to show that she believed them. “I’m Dotty,” she continued with a little giggle and a half-curtsey, “and I’d be happy to get you whatever you’d like! Is this your first time in?”
He’s horribly hungover. The ‘casual drinks’ he shared with his brother last night turned into opening a third bottle of wine at almost 2am whilst they sat back with their feet up and reminisced on the old days. Red wine doesn’t taste as good when you’re waking up on the couch at 7am with it still on your teeth, he’ll tell you that much for nothing.
Dotty’s clearly in better health than himself this morning, and Spencer mutters a half-assed, “good morning,” but then pushes his sunglasses up as he checks his watch and corrects himself: “Afternoon.” He’s not overly familiar with the woman, but he’d been to the cafe enough to know it’s her name on the front of the place. Spencer guesses he usually stops by when it’s somebody else’s job to man the counter, because his welcome is never usually this chipper. “Uh... I’ll just get a white coffee.” His shades are already back over his eyes again, protecting him from the harsh lights of the cafe.
On second thought, Spencer asks, “you do those smoothies? The green ones with all the...” He makes a vague motion that’s supposed to mean ‘vitamins and other healthy shit’ but looks more like he’s playing with invisible finger puppets. The only logical thing to do here is level with the woman, he decides. “Look, I’m super hungover,” he admits. “And all that sustainable stuff is cool and if you have a leaflet or something I’ll... stick it to my fridge and read up on it more later, but right now I need a hangover cure. Bad.”
