Path of the Vampire forum

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.