Second Smoke Signal

[charring]

[Cast an eyeball at the red-head on roller skates as she weaves her way in an out of cars at the drive-in diner. She works here. She probably has your order. And she's probably chewing bubblegum and wearing something similar to this. She's a nice enough car hop.

She'll mind your flip-tops and screamers. Want her number? Well, ain't that a bite. It's not gonna happen and unless your questions are about the food they serve here, she'll probably get huffy, ask if you're writin' a book and then skate off to deal with less aggravating customers. Bug her more and she'll tell you to put an egg in your shoe and beat it.

But other than that, enjoy your food!]


[ooc: as much fun as that was to write, I'm sure I got a lot of the slang wrong. Eesh. ENJOY!]

Comments

[designedtoparty]

[Nathan takes the paper between two fingers, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket.]

As if I would.