The Arms Hotel, Saturday

[gunslingerpose]

The island was still quiet, and Nick was bored enough at work today that he was doing... pretty much anything but hotel work. If there was hotel work to be doing, sure, he'd be doing it. But instead he was more or less living on his phone again, booking plane tickets to go visit his family for Thanksgiving next month, arranging meetings for around that time with his clients back in LA, calling up major studios to check in on the status of certain contracts, ordering a pizza...

What? Just because he worked at the hotel didn't mean he had to live on hotel food all of the time. And besides, the kitchen staff felt like phoning it in today, too.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Food.

Some Saturdays were just like that.

[Open, OCD-free!]

Groovy Tunes, Saturday

[furnaceface]

October! While it was still July back in Glacia (and the farther he could get away from July, the better), it was still wonderfully, gloriously, Autumnally October on the island.

And quiet. So, so bloody quiet.

But that was fine. Jonothon really didn't mind the quiet, after all. It meant he could play whatever music he wanted to play, shamelessly (and if that involved just selecting Youtube playlists at random and then listening to the greatest grunge and alternative hits of the 90s, so bloody sue him), while stringing up fake spiderwebs around the shop.

And contemplating if it was too early to carve a pumpkin yet. Was it too early to carve a pumpkin? Would it rot? If it rotted, he could probably just use it as an excuse to carve another pumpkin...

And that was how the counter became covered in newspaper and pumpkin guts, with Jono's leather coat cast off to the side and his arm buried to the elbow in a big orange gourd. True, Halloween had never really been a big deal for him while he was growing up, but if there was one holiday he could truly embrace that had been ridiculously overblown by American commercialism, this one was it.

[Open!]