The building was an odd one, which was ridiculous, since she had crisscrossed the country and thought she had seen her fair share of strange architecture. Still, she had never seen a shop made to look like a pie; she had to give the owner creative points for that. She approached the mostly green building- though the few floors above it were a drab off-white -but paused to check her reflection in one of the large circular windows. Wild hair, scuffed boots, hole-y jeans that clung to every curve. The same old. She could have possibly tried to dress up a little... but she really did not own any clothing appropriate for a job interview.
Not that she had one. No, this was blind shooting, going in to see if the place was hiring, which she hoped it was. She was down to her last twenty. She adjusted the duffle bag over her shoulder, and cast a glance down at the cat at her side. “Wait here.” There was a meow or protest. “I know, but people don’t appreciate furballs with their food.”
The cat let out a grumble, her sleek black body hopping up on a nearby bench to wait as she was told. Hokulani pushed in one of the double doors and entered. Immediately the smell of baking crust hit her and her belly grumbled, demanding some. She really did not want to spend the last of her money, but goddamn, did that smell good. She set her duffle bag down on one side of the booth before slipping onto the seat on the other side. There were a handful of people within, and the waitress- a short haired blonde in a bright orange uniform -signaled that she’d be just a moment.