Mixtape Ghost NGarrett Dovanon
The evening was beginning to wear on him. Garrett was no stranger to working 12 straight. Hell, he had even done worse during those first months in Riviere. The city was ruthless, even more so to foolish wanderers without a past. Still, that didn’t make his current gig any bearable. Between the heat of the grill and the strain of standing for hours on ends, he was sweating like a pig, not to mention the endless stream of customers pouring in when the festival started to pick up. Regardless, he maintained the perfect façade; he greeted each customer with a smile and put up with their small talks gracefully. After all, his training at the Blood Lotus had become so ingrained it was almost second nature.
Eventually, the crowd thinned. It could be that the parade was starting, so folks went off to search for a good spot to gawk. He had never been a fan of the parade. Too crowded. Wading through a sea of sweaty bodies and meowling kids, to what end? Just to catch a brief look at some people in flashy outfits. Sure, some people might enjoy that, but he didn’t. He would prefer to hit one of the local clubs and kick back a bit, though at this rate, he probably wouldn’t make it. The hotdog stand would have to stay open for another couple of hours, then he would have to clean up everything and take the stall back to its owner. It was going to be a very, very long night.
Then a young woman approached. Garrett was on a quick break, taking off his hat and noting briefly that the hotdog slightly resembled a certain part of the human male anatomy, when she walked up. Immediately, he stood straighter and put on his ‘how can I help you’ receptionist smile. Much to his surprise though, the girl tried to get a discount out of him using her looks, if the winking and leaning was any indication. It was then he looked at her, really looked rather than just glancing as if she were another passer-by. And admittedly, she wasn’t hard on the eyes; a redhead, green eyes, striking features and quite endowed in other aspects as well. Garrett would be lying if he claimed his eyes didn’t drift southward for a few seconds. In the end though, he was planning to deny her that discount. Politely, of course. However, glancing at the none-existence line behind her, he figured, what the hell, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Maybe if he gave her a hotdog she would stay for a brief chat. He could use some company.
“One chili cheese dog, ma’am.”- He half-smiled as he handed over the hotdog, while his other hand slid the cash wad back toward the young woman– “Consider it a welcome, from New Riviere.”
After a short pause, he continued while absentmindedly tidying up the work surface of his stall – “So how do you enjoy the festival? Everything’s to your liking?”