somakemelaugh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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riverviewlogs2017-09-05 08:30 pm
somakemelaugh) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-09-05 08:30 pm
Entry tags:
Coffee or tea?
who: Undertaker and Akihiko
what: Foodies and drinks
when: The night of the 5th
where: The coffee shop
warnings: None so far
These days, his was the opening shift at the shop, and while a few of his coworkers had turned up their noses at it, it was a shift Undertaker was only all too happy to take. The earlier the shift, the sooner its end, and it still left him time in the evenings to do as he pleased or needed. His own sleep schedule had returned to something more normal for him, and as a morning person who once rose early to tend to the dead and make them look more alive, he now rose early to tend to the living to keep them from looking so dead.
Funny how that worked out, but he liked it well enough. The cookie and coffee smell of the shop was just as pleasant to him as was the formaldehyde and lumber in his parlor back home, though he was sure the customers liked the former much better. He had been entrusted with helping to open in the mornings, and part of his tasks was to set up a selection of pastries and cookies and muffins for the day that rotated on a weekly basis. There were recipes to follow, though he'd had a time in reading them. They were tasteful and suitable, he supposed, after having sampled them himself, but they seemed lacking and ultimately he had given them a twist of his own - a little extra cinnamon here, a touch of nutmeg there. He'd heard no complaints. Why would they? Customers seemed to like them well enough.
The teas, he could handle a few of the flavors, though they also seemed a little bland. There was less to work with where they were concerned to change the flavor and the steeping process was automated for some of them, of which he was no fan. But he was here for the long term, for what he could see. The city wasn't letting him go any time soon and he needed better income than what his second job provided him. Given that his second job had no work, essentially, the coffee shop was now his only real employment. He had time to play around with the tea and customers enough to ask for their preferences. One day he would perfect it.
what: Foodies and drinks
when: The night of the 5th
where: The coffee shop
warnings: None so far
These days, his was the opening shift at the shop, and while a few of his coworkers had turned up their noses at it, it was a shift Undertaker was only all too happy to take. The earlier the shift, the sooner its end, and it still left him time in the evenings to do as he pleased or needed. His own sleep schedule had returned to something more normal for him, and as a morning person who once rose early to tend to the dead and make them look more alive, he now rose early to tend to the living to keep them from looking so dead.
Funny how that worked out, but he liked it well enough. The cookie and coffee smell of the shop was just as pleasant to him as was the formaldehyde and lumber in his parlor back home, though he was sure the customers liked the former much better. He had been entrusted with helping to open in the mornings, and part of his tasks was to set up a selection of pastries and cookies and muffins for the day that rotated on a weekly basis. There were recipes to follow, though he'd had a time in reading them. They were tasteful and suitable, he supposed, after having sampled them himself, but they seemed lacking and ultimately he had given them a twist of his own - a little extra cinnamon here, a touch of nutmeg there. He'd heard no complaints. Why would they? Customers seemed to like them well enough.
The teas, he could handle a few of the flavors, though they also seemed a little bland. There was less to work with where they were concerned to change the flavor and the steeping process was automated for some of them, of which he was no fan. But he was here for the long term, for what he could see. The city wasn't letting him go any time soon and he needed better income than what his second job provided him. Given that his second job had no work, essentially, the coffee shop was now his only real employment. He had time to play around with the tea and customers enough to ask for their preferences. One day he would perfect it.