The Other Side Of The Mirror ---Satine---

[Birdee]

When Glory started talking about how things ran on the ordering front, there was a sudden glaze over her eyes. She hadn't ever done that before. Taken inventory? Sure. Count how many ketchup bottles the diner had left, sugar packets, straws and so on. That wasn't hard to do, and something Birdee liked doing, because, well, she was alone doing that. Behind the scenes, while everyone did their normal jobs, kissing customer butt, giving them a smile and sometimes, even flirting with the client base to get a little extra tip. There was a sigh of relief that came from her chest as Glory told her not to worry about it, the crevices of her lips raised high as she tried not to laugh at the analogy, he gave her, of how things worked in terms of ordering. Business supplies over drug paraphernalia and the drug itself would probably be very different Birdee imagined and agreed with, but somehow, Birdee still found it funny as all get out to compare those two very different things. "I can do those two things." Birdee said with a frantic bob of her head, ensuring Glory that she could stock and that she could deal with the register. One thing involved very little people encounters (and chance of getting their good or bad juju vibes), the other was slightly riskier. But unless someone was trying to finger bang her (not literally), most people put cash on the counter, swiped a card, or handed the cash over without groping any phalanges.

"Wh-who does that? Ho-how does the ordering get done?" Immediately Birdee thought that after her crash course in stocking and register, she might have to spend some time in the club. Not that she minded the club, but one wrong grind or pelvic thrust and Birdee was sure she would lose her job. She follows after Glory after watching how he put the money in the drawer, making sure she would remember to do it the same way he did, if Birdee ever had to be the deliverer, or the 'waitress' more or less for those wanting to order their regular stuff. The word 'sunshine' gets a look of dumbfoundedness from Birdee, never having been associated with anything sunny or shiny. It wouldn't stick, she was sure of it, but it got an amused low chuckle from Birdee as she put on the yellow apron with the monkey on it. Incense was not just incense, but people who didn't know the difference, would tell anyone that you could find vanilla whatever at this store and that store and it was all the same. They would say that for any scent, so when Glory stated they had stuff no one else had, Birdee had to raise a brow for a quick second. Every store had some variation of everything, she had encountered, but before the look got a question from Glory, Birdee's brow dropped back down as she just followed after the guy.

A question, and a stick was offered to her, Birdee leaning in and inhaling a little too strongly at first go. She coughed a little, then furrowed her brows as she tried to place the smell, and then took another whiff of it. "Ain't ever smelled nothing like it." Birdee had smelled a lot of musky scents; not too many baking scents, or floral scents given her own preference and those that she hung out with on the occasion, but nothing that compared to whatever this was. She would have to check out what came from southeast asia and was spikey; and remember where it was stocked for when she got her first pay cheque. Birdee coughed again, then took a step back as the strong odor wafted in her direction, Glory talking about it some more. A half of a week? Birdee imagined her couch would smell like it for a month. She noticed his eyes watering, Birdee taking another small step back, before asking the inevitable. "How many d-do we h-have in here?" Judging by a quick count, Birdee would put the count at around fifty or so different kinds, but her math wasn't all that great, and she had no idea how they stocked things. Were there two areas of the same flavor, or just one?

[Satine]

“Percy generally does the ordering unless he is sulking over Boss Lady giving him a time out. Yep.” He sniffed in a little more then left it to serve it’s purpose. “Only other time I routinely sucked that scent in was when I was crawling into holes to save my *** back in the fields. Was pretty sure I found a couple that would keep me covered until those with guns and palm sized party crashers minus the pin disappeared. Each time someone had already beat me to it and their fermenting skin bag was left around as evidence that I quite possibly wasn’t as lucky as I originally thought. Tell you what, that there is a smell that I am pretty sure it won’t be long before they market. Expired meat.”

A couple of thick tipped fingers rubbed roughly at the dense spread of gray whiskers covering his lower face which dispersed probably over more of his neck than appeared attractive. Well, to anyone but him. He kind of admired the consistent covering of body hair he had that no professional body groomer could really cut down let alone get rid of. Furious George wouldn’t die of exposure if it came down to it. He was a certified old bear in that regard and a veteran to boot.

“Now for the traditional burners who want to have the scents of home and gardens filling their breathing space, well, we have them covered too.” A brief series of steps takes place so that the portly septuagenarian is standing within view of what he is talking about. “This here is where you find the Apple pie, the sweet stink of moody blues blossoms and can even smoke up the mouthwatering thanksgiving bird right over there.”

FG briefly pointed out the aptly named package with the unmistakable image of a stuffed bird dressed to the nines in the white turkey frills capping the ends of the bones where the feet had been. He looked at it a little longer than the rest on display and felt his gut growl at him with notice. His hand dropped down and gave the girth of his belly a soothing rub down that involved more than a few circles to get the job done to his satisfaction. That was the moment he was grateful the scent of spoiled carcass was still dominating the air. The release of gas from last night's jalapeno chili would have bowled her over.

“And that reminds me...” A firm pat of his hand sent a slow wave of jiggling through his midsection as he took to stepping quick from the evidence building around him that he probably didn’t eat half as healthy as he should. “When you are on the clock here you eat free. We have become known for more than just the weed, greed and spirits. We got some mind blowing weiners. Who doesn’t love a world class weiner tapping at their lips?” He cleared his throat without toning it down despite the company he had in tow. “I am hungry. How about you, Sunshine? Why start off this adventure with an empty stomach?”

[Birdee]

When Glory Daddy said wieners, Birdee just about lost her ****, right then and there. She stifled a laugh down, swallowing it and almost choking on the colorful imagery. Did Glory just confess that he liked wieners? If he did, she didn't care, but the phrasing was either perfect, or the guy just didn't realize just what he said---or how he said it. But even through the subtle innuendo and her fit of short laughter, Birdee realized that she couldn't answer the possible innuendo. So the dirty dishwater blonde shrugged her shoulders and followed with a "You're telling the story, Glory Daddy." Something one of her uncle's used to tell her when she was little and her 'imagination' ran away with her.

Sunshine. No one had ever attributed that to Birdee. Not that Birdee was a crab *** by any means, but she was tough, and never looked like a summer day, or a ray of sunlight. Her skin was rough, due to drinking and smoking, she even looked a little older than she actually was. "I'm ******* starving." Birdee admitted, with another laugh, this one different than the other. This one hinted at her joking spirit; Birdee's lightheartedness. "Lead the way Glory, D." Birdee said, moving backwards to allow Glory to make his way around her. He was, in Birdee's mind, her 'boss.' Or at least her senior, and showing her the ropes.

"So, how long you been working here? How long you know Alice?" Since the fleeting thought entered Birdee's mind a few seconds ago, it seemed like a good idea to ask, or something to say at the least since they were going to be working together. That wasn't too personal, something she could probably ask anyone in this place, but Birdee knew that she wasn't going to be talking to many people here. the less she knew, the less she connected with anyone, the better it was for everyone.

[Satine]

“Not easy getting through a day on an empty stomach.” Once again old Furious George was rolling along towards the direction his feet carried him. “About two years or maybe a little less. She found my *** and dusted it off just when I needed it most.”

He paused in his steps and made the effort to make eye contact with his young trainee. It was as good as time as any to make things clear on where he stood when it came to Alice, The boss lady or Satine. His memory was for the most part not what it should be. He hid it well. Well, until Percy pointed it out.

“Look, if I said it before that means it is that important that I am repeating myself. She is a whole lot more than you see at first glance. More than most ever get a chance to know. Her putz of a husband sure got lucky. Not sure what that snot nosed son of ***** did right but I bet it had something to do with sex. Only thing I can think of because you won’t see him winning a round of Jeopardy anytime soon.” Once again he was back on his way seeing that he had some of her attention. “Anyways, she is like an ornery and unpredictable snake. She strikes when you least expect it and she makes no apologies when she does. But other side of the corncob no one wants up their *** is that she gives a **** unlike most around this town. She takes care of her own, namely me and the flaming Red Rider... Percy. I have seen her busted up but never down for long. Don’t think for a minute this old body won’t go to it’s grave being there for her along with the flame throwing freak we got squeaking around. Just stick to the job and don’t bite the hand that will be feeding you. I hate to have to show you the doors, Sunshine.”

Like a slow moving steam engine he huffed along the route they had taken previously. Most of his lead was following back through the candy store and much of what would appear familiar. Just when it would seem she had seen it all before he took a detour at the last few steps that sent them around a corner and stopping in front of an elevator previously unseen.

“This is a private access deal but I am pretty sure the boss lady won’t mind if we use it.” A few taps of a thick finger had the door sliding open. Once it did all that was revealed was a predominantly dark interior save for the sapphire blue buttons that glowed with the corresponding floor numbers to choose from. It took stepping inside to notice the ceiling was one solid mirror hiding the security cameras expertly installed above the bullet proof barrier. “My knees aren’t going to be kind to me later if I start hiking my *** up all those stairs. Satine...” He cleared his throat realizing what slipped out. “Sorry, the boss lady and the girls use it for the cardio between sets and it smells like perfume factory with no ventilation in place. Between my lungs and my legs is every damn reason to take the easiest way up.”

The hiss of the door sliding shut signaled he had yet to choose a floor to arrive at. Another tap of the same sausage link sized finger had them rising upward and surprisingly the interior of the elevator going completely dark while they did.

“Welcome to getting older, kid. Now for those glorious artery blocking footlongs that has my mouth watering...” The door slid back open and once again they were in the lighting of the club. This meant they were that much closer to Wonderland’s heavenly hotdogs.

[Birdee]

Birdee was listening as best as she could, but she gawked at him when he mentioned the name Satine. Who was that? Then it dawned on her when he said 'Boss Lady.' Wasn't she Alice? A look that said 'dafuq' displayed on her features remained gawking at him as Birdee tried to figure out if she were to be called 'Alice,' 'Satine,' or 'Boss Lady.' Probably the latter-she would rather call her something non-descriptive than to call her the wrong name.

Glory Daddy and Satine had two years of history and who knew about the guy named Percy? What was his deal anyway? What he was wearing left little room to the imagination-not that Birdee had been looking. But as the dude rolled on by, she could see the line of his *** crack and don't even get her started about his beach balls. Lucky guy for the right woman.

"I'm kind of starving." Birdee confessed when Glory talked about the foot-long hot dogs again. What was the last thing she ate, and not smoked or drank? Was it cereal? Birdee was sure it had to be cereal, because she remembered now that she needed to buy a new box of fruity o's. Those things were pretty comparable to crack, when Birdee didn't have any crack. Food crack. The music and bustle of the club had Birdee slowly slinking backwards, and placing a hand over both ears. The music wasn't bad, it was just too loud for her. She slowly jumped and weaved waaaaaaay around bodies, before scuttling closer to Glory once again. "Can't wait to get one in my mouth. Do we have fries too?" Birdee was a big lover of starches, screw salads and protein bars-she'd take mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, fries, tater tots and anything else, any day of the week.

[Satine]

“We got it all. We even have the open grill for employees on the side which is over there. You can use it on your breaks to whip up whatever you want with what we have.”

A body shoulders up to him while the young head attatched looks him over and gives a chuckle to the ones close by. A thick burly silver haired hand shoves the too close for comfort frame away from him. The group circles in his wake with a fit of liquored up laughter.

“*** nuggets.” He snaps his head back while his mustache and beard meet up causing his lips to disappear briefly. “**** like that is the only part I hate about having to be nice to the customers when I want to rearrange their kneecaps. Punks would be pissing their pants if I pulled them outside. I ain’t as slow as I look. I can make it around the block a few times if needed. As I was saying...this-a-way, Sunshine.”

Furious George’s wrinkled and hairy digit pointed in the direction he continued to head. One would almost consider his pace was for outward appearances picking up simply for the fact that he was heading towards the place where all the artery clogging magic happened. He nodded as if it would get her feet moving faster. It was his hope at least. With her hands over her ears it was clear the music was a bit much for her. She was appearing to be one of those sensitive sorts. He headed towards the grill making a mental note. It was something he would keep in mind.

Loud music was nothing that a set of funky fur covered earmuffs couldn’t fix. Their previous owner had no need for them since Satine deposited her permanently in the waters outside a restaraunt in the River Rock area. Employee theft came with a heavy price and it was without mercy when handed down. A hundred pounds of cement block chained to the feet left no traces when it finally reached the bottom. FG was there to make sure the last bubble popped and it happened like it was supposed to.

[Birdee]

When people came to close to her, or Glory Daddy, Birdee would stop abruptly and clam up. Standing in place, rigid and frozen, just hoping for the intruders of space to move on out of boredom-any reason, really. When they finally did move on, Birdee nodded her head, teeth tight together as she thought about it. Birdee believed that G Daddy had moves she didn't know about, and surely didn't want to see.

Her nickname brought Birdee from her tense position, once a nod came from her."Sure thing, Glory Daddy. And I know. I believe you." The moves, could be anything-she wasn't agreeing that they were good. They could have been bad, and chances are, they probably were. Still, Birdee knew better than to say what she was thinking.

Once they were in the kitchen of fried potential and deliciousness, Birdee moved with more ease and less caution. People here were employees and it seemed to be just her and GD for now. "Want some fries? I know how to drop them." Birdee pointed both her pointers to the fryer, as eyes fell on the guy. "I don't know how many times I had to put a batch down because it was what I was waiting on for my burgers, or some sort of sandwich. Seemed like I did a little bit of everything at my old job." Birdee watched Glory Daddy as her back pressed to the edge of a cool table in the munchie making area. Both her palms found the surface, absorbing the coolness gratefully. There was rarely a time when Birdee was cold; usually it was the other way around. anything that helped her cool down, was golden to her. And tucked way down deep for the night she was hotter than earth's inner core.

[Satine]

Of course the kid believed him. He had been known to sell the idea of everlasting snowballs at the gates of hell on more than a few occasions in his day. FG was the master of persuasion despite his less than appealing exterior. Despite what had worn down to resemble a gray shaggy walking raisin in most spots that were visible he had a center that was still as energetic and full of whoop *** if it came down to it. The reason for Percy’s last trip the the emergency room was all the proof anyone needed if in doubt.

“Have at it.” He flagged a thick set of fingers to the fryers she was speaking of and nodded. “Let’s see what you got.” While he waited for her to make her moves and show him how she did things he reached up and adjusted his bandana on his forehead. “It is supposed to be a thing for us to wear hairnets, gloves and **** while we are back here but I never mess with them. Takes too damn much time and my memory sucks. Like any true master I like to feel my meat in my bare hands before I slap it down and give it a work out. Gloves get in the way. Afraid to get your hands dirty? Then you don’t need to be touching my meat, all I can say.”

The head cheese of the head shop flicks the box of gloves clearly visible for expected use. He figured what the boss lady didn’t know or the customers wouldn’t hurt them. He eyed the kid while she didn't move. She seemed to be holding onto the counter behind her to stay grounded. He shrugged and moved along to grab the fries from the cooler. At first sight the cut of potatoes was a bit thicker than the usual but that is how the boss lady prefered things so he stuck with what kept her out of his thinning hair. With a release of the bag he dropped it on the counter behind his new trainee.

“And **** those ridiculous webs they call hairnets. I can’t tell you how many times I walked out of here wearing them because the air seems to be thicker than what they are made out of. I figure if I shed anything it is damn well cooked up by the time anyone ever has a chance to get it to their lips. I survived in the field eating **** that I had to reach into holes and pull out to survive. People are tougher than the government regulations give them credit for. Hell some of it puts hairs on a person’s chest.”

[Birdee]

Birdee kept listening and watching Glory Daddy as he moved around the kitchen. He knew what he wanted and where to get it-didn't screw around. A couple of things he said though, had either gotten a surprised look off her face, or a short snicker that was cut off before it got too loud. Glory Daddy and his puns.

When the bag of fries was tossed her way, Birdee moved to a sink to wash her hands. She dried the backs of them on her pants, while the front portion got a quick air dry by the woman waving her hands around. One hand, after the other grabbed a handful of fries, before Birdee tossed them into the grease and listened to them cackle as they swam around in whatever oil they used in the club. Some peanut, while others did fat from an animal. It all tasted the same to her, as the food went down to the pit of Birdee's stomach.


"Yeah, we had to wear that crap in the back where I used to work. Isn't a bun or ponytail enough? Guess not. No one liked them there either." Birdee confessed as she shook the bucket for the fries in the grease to get them to move around a little more. "About one minute to go. How's your meat, Daddy?" Birdee glanced over in his direction, as she wondered if he had been too worked up on his meat to actually do anything with it.

[Satine]

Furious George had a couple cool, flaccid Wonderland foot longs flopping around in his meaty grip as he made his way around the grill. He was observant as should be expected since he was left to the task of training her in. While she shook the metal basket submerged in piping hot grease like she was panning for gold and expecting to come up rich he went about dealing with the one of a kind weiners.

“Real hot dogs are in an entirely different universe than your typical ball park franks. Tell you what, it isn’t the length of ours that makes them exceptional. Size is not everything, kiddo. Don’t be fooled. It is about how ready it is to pop under the first bite and give you a shot of mouth watering flavor that says its is more than high quality meat stuffed in each natural casing. The garlic and the paprika assault your taste buds, the juices come at you and plain and simple ask you if you can handle the truth of what you just bought and wrapped your lips around.” He bobs his head with a little more fluid rhythm than most expect to see out of an old fart like him. “Temperature is key in how to make that happen. 150-160 is ideal. Anything lower and you can tell. You are chewing on something more rubbery than flavorful. Heat makes the meat talk. It will literally weep it’s unique taste until it’s soul is coating your tongue and have you wanting more.”

With the random accompanying clicks of a set of metal scissor tongs in his left hand he dropped the handful of meat in his right on the grill. He licked his fur framed lips. It was enough to give his gut reason to growl, which it did, while he watched the licking of the flames welcoming his dual offerings to the hot surface.

“But watch it closely. Nothing worse than a grill and grease fire out of control.” He reached into the shelved bread rack that had large metal pans holding fresh buns. “We will get to fire safety after we finishing feasting. Can’t let you loose back here and on your own unless you can show me you can stop the place from burning down. It is Percy’s favorite part of orientation. He gets to start the fire you will be putting out.”