who: open to all where: The Danvers' Diner ;; Afternoon
Shifts had been getting harder; not only was the staff and the customer base dwindling day by day, Pip just felt more and more uncomfortable as this new change continued to parade around her life. And here she was: cleaning up tables where every dish seemed to elicit nausea. "If you're coming here to complain about your order," she began as she noticed the other begin to approach her, eyes never leaving the table she was wiping up. "I'm warning you: I could not give less of a fuck. I'm down two line cooks, so you're lucky your food is even edible. Other than that, how can I help you?"












