Post by Deleted on Aug 17, 2014 20:44:04 GMT -5
Aug 17, 2014 20:44:04 GMT -5
fate is impersonal, destiny obsessive
. . .
Daytime, especially early morning, was by no means Amour Cafe's busy hour. Anyone who'd had a job the night before was likely either sleeping off whatever pleasures they'd given the previous night or wishing fully that they were. That wasn't to say it was unattended at the 9am hour... just sparsely so.
One escort in particular had taken to the early shift; in truth, the young man's uncanny wakefulness almost didn't seem natural. Yet over the last week's time Theo "Mephisto" Wittenberg had taken it on himself to mind the place in the early hours... and what's more, he took it on himself to make breakfast for the staff. Even though the 'cafe' part of the name was mostly just for wordplay and coyness the building did have a working kitchen...
... and on this particular morn the smell of eggs, ham, batter, and sauteed onions was filtering into the building.
Naked save for an apron, the blonde-haired youth was playing at reversed stereotypes something fierce. He hummed lightly as he stirred and scrambled, flipped and fried, making a bit of everything. To a casual observer it would seem like a very strangely placed -- and at least somewhat sexy -- dose of uncalled for generosity and goodwill. In truth, the old saying about the way to people's hearts being through their stomachs was certainly on his mind; the staff on site would be more attractive if fully awake and invigorated and overnight customers might opt to stay a bit longer (and spend a bit more) if the didn't have to wander off elsewhere to grab a morning bite. It was strange business sense, but business sense nonetheless. He'd easily make up what he'd spent on ingredients if just one person decided they wanted to 'kiss the chef'.
Plus, he just had a soft spot for breakfast.
Laying out a spare table, neatly set, and cutlery in the main lobby, the youthful callboy deposited steaming plates of pancakes, various styles and mixes of eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, and sauteed onions and peppers along with everything people would need to pick and take what they wanted. The hot items went under lids to keep them that way while he decorated the remaining table space with miniature muffins and simple pastries. It was turning into something of a thing, this 'breakfast allure' experiment -- the first day it had simply been toast slices and that seemed to have been well received. He hoped he wasn't overdoing it; he didn't want to turn the cafe into a restaurant, after all... just keep everyone on their toes and encourage the guests to indulge all their sensuous desires.
Well, in any case, no one would leave hungry this morning...
One escort in particular had taken to the early shift; in truth, the young man's uncanny wakefulness almost didn't seem natural. Yet over the last week's time Theo "Mephisto" Wittenberg had taken it on himself to mind the place in the early hours... and what's more, he took it on himself to make breakfast for the staff. Even though the 'cafe' part of the name was mostly just for wordplay and coyness the building did have a working kitchen...
... and on this particular morn the smell of eggs, ham, batter, and sauteed onions was filtering into the building.
Naked save for an apron, the blonde-haired youth was playing at reversed stereotypes something fierce. He hummed lightly as he stirred and scrambled, flipped and fried, making a bit of everything. To a casual observer it would seem like a very strangely placed -- and at least somewhat sexy -- dose of uncalled for generosity and goodwill. In truth, the old saying about the way to people's hearts being through their stomachs was certainly on his mind; the staff on site would be more attractive if fully awake and invigorated and overnight customers might opt to stay a bit longer (and spend a bit more) if the didn't have to wander off elsewhere to grab a morning bite. It was strange business sense, but business sense nonetheless. He'd easily make up what he'd spent on ingredients if just one person decided they wanted to 'kiss the chef'.
Plus, he just had a soft spot for breakfast.
Laying out a spare table, neatly set, and cutlery in the main lobby, the youthful callboy deposited steaming plates of pancakes, various styles and mixes of eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, and sauteed onions and peppers along with everything people would need to pick and take what they wanted. The hot items went under lids to keep them that way while he decorated the remaining table space with miniature muffins and simple pastries. It was turning into something of a thing, this 'breakfast allure' experiment -- the first day it had simply been toast slices and that seemed to have been well received. He hoped he wasn't overdoing it; he didn't want to turn the cafe into a restaurant, after all... just keep everyone on their toes and encourage the guests to indulge all their sensuous desires.
Well, in any case, no one would leave hungry this morning...
CODED BY DUCKIE OF GS