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fandomtownies2008-01-18 07:44 am
queen-of-zagreb.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomtownies2008-01-18 07:44 am
Luke's Diner, January 18 (Friday)
Yitzhak had gotten the perfect dress for a drag show he'd be doing in Alexandria on Sunday -- well, perfect except for one small and very important detail. It wasn't nearly sparkly enough.
And so, slouched oh so elegantly on a stool by the counter sat one scrawny, scruffy, scowly drag queen with a sewing kit and a huge pile of sequins that were getting sewn meticulously onto the dress. The sewing kit seemed to be blessed with an overabundance of needles, all of which were glinting in their very shiny and pointy way, bristling flamboyantly from a pincushion that, if it hadn't been stuck full of needles, would have been -- let's face it -- pretty risqué for public consumption.
The kitchen staff were, maybe unsurprisingly, pretty nervous about the needles; their boss really, really, really didn't need that many sharp pointy things within reach. The busboy kept insisting that he'd heard of tragic accidents involving needles going into people's fingers and then on up to their brains. (Whether or not he and the rest of the staff were hoping for such a thing to happen to Yitzhak remains a mystery.) Fortunately, he was prepared for just such an occasion and proceeded to pull out a bag of thimbles, adamant that he, the dishwasher, and the cook should all wear one thimble on each finger. And thumb, of course.
This made cooking, dishwashing, and bussing tables a little difficult, but at least they kept themselves entertained in the back, using the thimbles to do impressions of horses.
Yitzhak? Just kept on sewing. Occasionally he got up and sewed a couple of sequins to the Help Wanted sign, just for a change of pace.
Luke's isn't actually a miniature racetrack, no matter what it sounds like, but it is open.
[OOC: This is what happens when my MP3 player comes up with clips of Eddie Izzard routines while I'm trying to write up this post. I'm so sorry.]
And so, slouched oh so elegantly on a stool by the counter sat one scrawny, scruffy, scowly drag queen with a sewing kit and a huge pile of sequins that were getting sewn meticulously onto the dress. The sewing kit seemed to be blessed with an overabundance of needles, all of which were glinting in their very shiny and pointy way, bristling flamboyantly from a pincushion that, if it hadn't been stuck full of needles, would have been -- let's face it -- pretty risqué for public consumption.
The kitchen staff were, maybe unsurprisingly, pretty nervous about the needles; their boss really, really, really didn't need that many sharp pointy things within reach. The busboy kept insisting that he'd heard of tragic accidents involving needles going into people's fingers and then on up to their brains. (Whether or not he and the rest of the staff were hoping for such a thing to happen to Yitzhak remains a mystery.) Fortunately, he was prepared for just such an occasion and proceeded to pull out a bag of thimbles, adamant that he, the dishwasher, and the cook should all wear one thimble on each finger. And thumb, of course.
This made cooking, dishwashing, and bussing tables a little difficult, but at least they kept themselves entertained in the back, using the thimbles to do impressions of horses.
Yitzhak? Just kept on sewing. Occasionally he got up and sewed a couple of sequins to the Help Wanted sign, just for a change of pace.
Luke's isn't actually a miniature racetrack, no matter what it sounds like, but it is open.
[OOC: This is what happens when my MP3 player comes up with clips of Eddie Izzard routines while I'm trying to write up this post. I'm so sorry.]