#(and yes i did the exact math for a 1982 Pizza Hut pricing fhcbxsjsh)

[alexcharmsyou]

Daily Drabble //dec-9//

𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘵 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘖𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘯

Rating: T  Word Count: 554

“Attention Pizza Hut dine ins’ and dine outs’ -The huts had its fun but we close this rig by 9. The doors are open sesame at 10am so,” Jan paused, angled her head towards a man in the back booth and winked [he seemed confused, as all the poor customers Jan decided to dally with did] “I better see ya then hm? This Meat lovers ain’t gonna love itself, ya hear!”

“2 slices of supreme and a side salad…Totals’ 1.01, Sir.” Michael finished ringing up the last customer while Jan had her moment, he’d been working here for about 3 months now? It was just him and Jan closing tonight.

He liked it, working meant he got to get out of the house. It meant he had a purpose.

Plus, Henry was allowing him to stay at their house as long as he was employed. That’s fair, Michael thought. He could be out in the streets.

But he was here, in the coziness of a steady and dim lit hospitality service.

“Bye now,” Jan escorted everyone out the front door, a kind expression as she nodded and dismissed each and every person that walked out.

Michael grabbed a rag from the sanitizer bucket as he watched. She was so sweet to people, and it seemed. Real. A real and genuine affection.

He was safe here. Mike let out a slight smirk and walked into the kitchen. Once he was out of view, he turned his Walkman on his Combat Rock cassette and equipped the headphones.

“Alright. Let’s do this shit.” mumbling to himself. He stretched, pulled his red sleeves up, and drew his hair into a bun, his get-ready-to-close routine if you will. 

This is a public service announcement, with guitar~

Know Your Rights, nice. Mike was a big supporter of The Clash, following them since he could speak.

“Hey Sugar, I’m handin’ these dishes off to ya.” Jan noted from behind the counter.

“Thanks, I’ll have them up in a bit.” Mike replied warmly.

As the minutes went by, Michael had scrubbed every dish he could find, and every counter he could reach.

The last thing left on the list was to mop the floors, which Michael considerably enjoyed as long as he could block his thoughts away with a tune. Tonight he mopped to the beat of Paul Simonon’s power speech in Red Angel Dragnet.

Sometimes he’d lose focus on the floor-way and glance up at the windows. Cold and rainy. Usually he’d walk home, but Henry always made sure he got a ride. Mike really appreciated this, William had always told him he was weak if he couldn’t even walk himself home. He grunted at the memory. Thanks a lot, Will. 

“Alright sonny she’s lookin’ good. Is your ride here? I’ll clock ya out if you wanna head off early.” 

“Oh uh, yeah.” Michael noticed Henry’s car parked outside. It looked like Charlie came with him, which made Mike subconsciously grin. She promised to tell him about the bat conservation her friend took her to when he got home from work.

“Wouldn’t wanna forget this,” Jan smirked, followed by a head tilt as she held Mike’s leather jacket out for him.

“Appreciate it, Jan. Have a nice weekend.” Michael opened the door, a chilly breeze flowing through his sinuses. “Later!”