Ira
make a ride of this world while you can
It is a couple or so hours after midday and the bar is technically not supposed to be open yet. However, the door is standing wide open with the 'Open'-sign on display, inviting anyone in to the somewhat cooling breeze of the spinning ceiling fans and the temptation of a cold beer or two. A few early patrons have already accepted the invitation; a couple standing by one of the tall tables out on the floor, their heads together in a muttering discussion. Probably the usual complaints about the lockdown, heat and don't forget the lockdown. Another patron is sitting in one of the small booths along the walls.
At the long bar counter along the wall opposite to the entrance stands one of the bartenders (not the man in charge of the place) and lazily cleans some shot glasses while trying to look like he isn't suffering too much. While the ceiling fans help a fair bit, one can hardly call it chilly inside. The only other worker on site is Ira, currently sitting at the other end of the bar and using the downtime trying to put a table fan together until she has to make the next round between the tables.
It isn't much work; replacing some screws here and tightening some others there. But they are tiny and not cooperative and are slowly grinding down her patience. Which is already low this day to begin with. Aside from the heat being extra uncomfortable, her head is hurting and she's got this small annoying nausea feeling pressing at the back of her throat which she keeps blaming on the heat and the headache. Silently questioning herself why she agreed to come in so early today, even if the slow pace is rather nice in a way. Still, she manages to fight back the urge to just throw the fan out the door and go on a smoke break for the rest of the afternoon. At least while there are still other people inside the bar.
The poor fan still has a few chances left to live...
At the long bar counter along the wall opposite to the entrance stands one of the bartenders (not the man in charge of the place) and lazily cleans some shot glasses while trying to look like he isn't suffering too much. While the ceiling fans help a fair bit, one can hardly call it chilly inside. The only other worker on site is Ira, currently sitting at the other end of the bar and using the downtime trying to put a table fan together until she has to make the next round between the tables.
It isn't much work; replacing some screws here and tightening some others there. But they are tiny and not cooperative and are slowly grinding down her patience. Which is already low this day to begin with. Aside from the heat being extra uncomfortable, her head is hurting and she's got this small annoying nausea feeling pressing at the back of her throat which she keeps blaming on the heat and the headache. Silently questioning herself why she agreed to come in so early today, even if the slow pace is rather nice in a way. Still, she manages to fight back the urge to just throw the fan out the door and go on a smoke break for the rest of the afternoon. At least while there are still other people inside the bar.
The poor fan still has a few chances left to live...
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character.
Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
