Whiskey and Whining

[Eileen Buchanan]

Eileen was dead on her feet.  She'd worked two shifts in a row today and she was about to drop. Her feet and back were killing her, she'd slipped once on spilled beer and had had her ass grabbed twice; realistically she was ready to murder somebody, in addition to passing out.

But first, a glass of whiskey.

She was done, she wasn't doing anything else for these damn people and as she poured herself a tall glass of whiskey and asked the kitchen for a large bowl of stew with a hunk of bread, she took a seat at a the corner booth and sighed slowly; it felt so delightful to be off her feet. Closing her eyes for a minute wouldn't be too bad, would it? Just until her food was ready. Cook would holler loud enough to get her attention. Leeny leaned back against the solid wood of the booth, closing her eyes for a moment, only to be interrupted a moment later but someone rather ungracefully kicking her as they sat across from her.

Opening one annoyed eye, Leeny curved a curious eyebrow as she recognized Caff. "You better be here to carry me home or you can get lost." It wasn't a particularly warm greeting, but Caff wouldn't take her seriously- and if he did, well he was a dope.

@'Aurelia Herondale' @'Nicholas Caffrey'