Luke's, Monday

[vdistinctive]

Work on the diner was progressing, though not anywhere near as quickly as Eliot would have preferred. He spent his time in the building trying not to actively scowl, a fact that was making his staff, who were very nicely volunteering to help out with the rebuilding efforts, extra-skittish.

It wasn't their fault. Honestly, by this point it wasn't even the shark's fault. The front end was all but put back on properly again by noon. Most of the work left to do was smaller stuff: electrical work and plumbing, drywalling and painting, putting glass back in the windows, retiling the floor, replacing trim. All things you could do perfectly easily with a few supplies from a hardware store.

Which was precisely the problem. Eliot kept tripping over buckets of paint and jars of finishing nails and things. He was getting flashbacks to working at his damn father's store back in Oklahoma.

Also, the cook was really bad at hammering. Eliot took the *bang! bang! taptaptaptaptaptap* as long as he could before he stormed over and yanked the hammer out of his hand. "I got this," he growled. "Go mud some goddamn drywall."

The cook fled.

Today's specials
Show off your DIY skills and we will buy you lunch
No really, we ordered pizza and tacos

Luke's wasn't open, per se, but you were welcome to drop by anyway.

[no diner service means no OCD. But it's still open!]