Luke's, Monday

[vdistinctive]

Eliot had been out of town on a job ("the Robert Louis Stevenson Job", as Hardison decided to call it) for the last few weeks, and had spent most of the morning catching up on the island radio. He was very, very glad, for both himself and the other residents of the island, that he hadn't been around the weekend. Lord only knew what kind of damage a guy like him could do when he didn't even know he could do it.

In the kitchen, the cook and the dishwasher were pretending they still didn't know who Eliot was. Eliot was in the middle of a brief (about two sentences, in fact) lecture on growing the hell up when the busboy came in, looked at Eliot, and said "Holy shit, you still work here?"

Right, then.

Today's specials
Pumpkin chili
End of summer corn salad
Old fashioned fudge
Now hiring!

Luke's was open.

Comments

Mod your service

[vdistinctive]

Sometimes you wanna go where everybody has a perfectly reasonable chance of knowing your name, this is a pretty small town after all.

Talk to Eliot

[vdistinctive]

And they're always moderately positive about your presence, or at the very least not actively angry that you're here.

OOC

[vdistinctive]

I had every intention of playing this weekend. It just didn't happen.