Status: Active
Pick The Poison And Pour Yourself A Glass
A Hard Day's Night
A lot of them say that each person has a mission in life, a purpose. Although I haven’t really found out what my purpose of living is, I…
What the fuck?
I woke up from my daily trances. God, I hate it when I fall into those.
Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet.
Trista Brooks, an aspiring chef and owner of a small café.
Being a chef was always a dream for me. When I was a kid, I’d watch those cooking shows you’d regularly see on the television. I’d also try cooking myself.
Earning my Culinary Arts degree was one of those “worth-while moments” in my 22 years of living.
Growing up in L.A., I had a pretty normal life. I was sociable and got into trouble at some point of my life. Being an only child, I had all the attention needed and got the things I wanted. Although there’s a catch, I had to get straight As. Would it kill me to get a damn B? In my case, yes. No cell phone, going out, and all that crap. I even remember having my first boyfriend. I’d go to his house after school and play video games with him. Best time ever. Some people considered me a tomboy since I wasn’t flirting with any guy at school. I was the type who would be “one of the boys”. My parents even thought of disowning me with the looks of it. “Act like a lady!” they’d scream. “Wear a dress for once!” they’d scream more. But everything had to go their way. If I wouldn’t change my ways, so long bright future.
Anyway, I shouldn’t be dwelling on the past. It’s the present that counts. And the future, of course. Ever since I moved to Chicago, all I thought about was owning my own café. And after 2 years of blood, sweat and tears, I finally got one. Had one. My own little café.
It’s nearing 8 and most of my customers are leaving.
I look around my staff to check if things are running smoothly. Pots banging, the aroma of coffee and chocolate sinking in. Ah, everything in order.
As I roam around my little café, I see my happy, cheerful customers eating. It brings such joy just by looking at them.
I looked at the entrance door and saw my best friend come in.
Spencer Flynn. She has a pretty cool name for a girl
“Hey there, princess,” she came up to me and grinned. “How’s my little café owner doing?”
“She’s doing good,” I smiled.
“Glad to hear that,” she said. “Anyway, why not say… I don’t know. Accompany me to get a few drinks?”
Oh God. She’s up to something. I could feel it.
“Spencer…” I groaned. “I need to stay here and…”
“And what? Your assistant’s here isn’t she?” she said and looked at me with disappointment. “Loosen up a bit, please?”
“Oh, alright.” I said in defeat. “I’ll just change,”
She nodded and I went to my “office” where I kept some of my spare clothing.
I changed into a dark purple plaid polo, black shorts and a plain white Converse.
I told Kaye, my assistant, to call me whenever there’s an emergency and to keep me updated with the café.
“Ready?” Spencer grinned and led me outside to her Hybrid.
“Well, I don’t have any other options now, do I?” I asked, hopefully.
“Pretty much, no.”
This is going to be a long night.
What the fuck?
I woke up from my daily trances. God, I hate it when I fall into those.
Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet.
Trista Brooks, an aspiring chef and owner of a small café.
Being a chef was always a dream for me. When I was a kid, I’d watch those cooking shows you’d regularly see on the television. I’d also try cooking myself.
Earning my Culinary Arts degree was one of those “worth-while moments” in my 22 years of living.
Growing up in L.A., I had a pretty normal life. I was sociable and got into trouble at some point of my life. Being an only child, I had all the attention needed and got the things I wanted. Although there’s a catch, I had to get straight As. Would it kill me to get a damn B? In my case, yes. No cell phone, going out, and all that crap. I even remember having my first boyfriend. I’d go to his house after school and play video games with him. Best time ever. Some people considered me a tomboy since I wasn’t flirting with any guy at school. I was the type who would be “one of the boys”. My parents even thought of disowning me with the looks of it. “Act like a lady!” they’d scream. “Wear a dress for once!” they’d scream more. But everything had to go their way. If I wouldn’t change my ways, so long bright future.
Anyway, I shouldn’t be dwelling on the past. It’s the present that counts. And the future, of course. Ever since I moved to Chicago, all I thought about was owning my own café. And after 2 years of blood, sweat and tears, I finally got one. Had one. My own little café.
It’s nearing 8 and most of my customers are leaving.
I look around my staff to check if things are running smoothly. Pots banging, the aroma of coffee and chocolate sinking in. Ah, everything in order.
As I roam around my little café, I see my happy, cheerful customers eating. It brings such joy just by looking at them.
I looked at the entrance door and saw my best friend come in.
Spencer Flynn. She has a pretty cool name for a girl
“Hey there, princess,” she came up to me and grinned. “How’s my little café owner doing?”
“She’s doing good,” I smiled.
“Glad to hear that,” she said. “Anyway, why not say… I don’t know. Accompany me to get a few drinks?”
Oh God. She’s up to something. I could feel it.
“Spencer…” I groaned. “I need to stay here and…”
“And what? Your assistant’s here isn’t she?” she said and looked at me with disappointment. “Loosen up a bit, please?”
“Oh, alright.” I said in defeat. “I’ll just change,”
She nodded and I went to my “office” where I kept some of my spare clothing.
I changed into a dark purple plaid polo, black shorts and a plain white Converse.
I told Kaye, my assistant, to call me whenever there’s an emergency and to keep me updated with the café.
“Ready?” Spencer grinned and led me outside to her Hybrid.
“Well, I don’t have any other options now, do I?” I asked, hopefully.
“Pretty much, no.”
This is going to be a long night.
♠ ♠ ♠
I hope that wasn't too shitty.Comment or something, please?
♥Lyn