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xp_logsSaturday, before the HeliX ball
Alison has to remind Lorna that the food isn't the only thing that needs to get ready.
Smiling in thanks as one of the waiters hastily stepped aside to grant her passage, Alison slipped inside the kitchens, looking for her room mate. The shock of green hair made that task easy enough, although it was the red faced man visibly trying not to throw something at Lorna that really gave it all away. Shaking her head she moved in closer, waving a hand to catch the chef's eye and smile at him reassuringly.
Lorna was dressed, like everyone else was, in a white chef coat and apron, though her’s were thrown over a pair of jeans old enough to have turned white at the seams. Her hair was braided tightly back from her face and a tight cap kept it there. She was having a tiny disagreement with the caterer’s chef about his idea of appropriate garnishes. She noticed him lose focus on her and stopped in mid-tirade. Turning, she blinked at Alison. “What are you doing here?” Her gaze flickered to the large clock on the wall automatically.
Making sure the chef doesn't disembowel you with a wooden spoon. "Saving your behind and bringing the dress to you since you won't come to it. Despite repeated calls to your cell phone from the poor thing, so desperate to be worn tonight." The words drew an appreciative snicker from a nearby undercook, who then scuttled off in terror as the chef turned his glare on him for a brief instant.
Lorna shook her head, “Can’t. Not nearly done here.” She glared at the rest of the kitchen who got back to work in a flurry of movement that, to the untrained eye, looked more like it was thirty seconds to chaos than three hours from ready to present. Even while arguing, Lorna’s gloved hands moved independently, piping a creamy coral substance into bite size pastry puffs.
Alison raised an eyebrow at her silently, wondering how long it would take for the Chef's head to explode. The poor man's mustache was on end and quivering. "Loooorna. You hire a Chef and caterers to do a job. Riiiiight? That means it's generally considered rude to try and do the poor man's job for him."
Lorna shrugged, “Rude is one thing, not being ready ontime is another. He’s a professional even if he does have barbaric ideas about garnish. Which means his job is to see what needs to get done does.” Lorna quirked an eyebrow at the chef who nodded reluctantly in agreement. “That means me staying.”
With a patient sigh, Alison shifted her weight, settling down for the long battle to come. "Lorna, you can't spend the entire evening here doing the caterer's work. That what they're here for. You'll need time to get ready for tonight and be downstairs on time when Brent comes to pick you up." Heck, I need to skedaddle and get ready soon myself and I do that a lot faster than you!
Lorna made a face. “If they’d done what they were supposed to I wouldn’t be here at all.” She looked at the clock again and made some mental adjustments to her plans for getting ready. “I still have time,” she said stubbornly. The catering chef had given up glaring and was now harassing one of the cooks, leaving Alison and Lorna in their own island of calm among the industry.
Taking a deep breath, Alison prepared herself to stand her ground - and then gave up. "Ok." She sighed, shoulders slumping. "You do what you want," she said softly, looking down briefly at the canapés before giving the catering chef a last look.
Lorna noticed Alison’s uncharacteristic capitulation but didn’t really spend any time thinking about it. “Thanks ever so, mommy,” she responded absently and proceeded to hurry on to her next task, moving around her roommate as though she wasn’t there.
Having turned around to go, Alison paused. Mommy? Slowly she pivoted around again, glaring at the damn canapés. "Lorna? Move. Or the food gets it." She smiled pleasantly at her, while lazily pointing a finger at the food displayed on the counter. "Betcha the garnish sizzles nicely."
Lorna and three cooks all made identical noises of alarm and flung themselves forward to protect the food which nearly resulted in its getting squashed. The cooks of course, had no idea what Alison had in mind but they weren’t taking any chances. The crazy green haired lady would make them do it over if it was ruined. Lorna, who knew exactly what her roommate had in mind, also knew that Alison was perfectly serious behind that calm smile. “If we aren’t ready on time, it’s all your fault.” She stripped off her gloves and hauled her apron over her head.
"Careful," Alison said, helpfully. "And you know? There is enough food here ready so that the caterers can keep the hungry masses fed until they finish the rest." She paused, and took a step back. "And regardless of that useful fact, I have utter and complete faith in the professionalism and skills of the people in this room to get everything ready on time. Because they are that good at what they do." Alison beamed at the others in the room with her trademark 'fall in love with me now' smile.
Lorna didn’t doubt that they all did; Alison had that kind of charisma. “Let’s go. These people have work to do.” She dragged Alison out of the kitchen, giving everyone she passed some kind of suggestion or compliment along the way.
"Yes ma'am!" Alison murmured, highly amused with the notion of being dragged out while she had been the one trying to pry Lorna from the food just a few moments ago. This evening would be interesting, she decided. And Lorna was doing her best not to think about it. For a moment, Alison felt rather sorry for Brent - she'd have to talk to him at one point in the evening. Somehow.
Alison has to remind Lorna that the food isn't the only thing that needs to get ready.
Smiling in thanks as one of the waiters hastily stepped aside to grant her passage, Alison slipped inside the kitchens, looking for her room mate. The shock of green hair made that task easy enough, although it was the red faced man visibly trying not to throw something at Lorna that really gave it all away. Shaking her head she moved in closer, waving a hand to catch the chef's eye and smile at him reassuringly.
Lorna was dressed, like everyone else was, in a white chef coat and apron, though her’s were thrown over a pair of jeans old enough to have turned white at the seams. Her hair was braided tightly back from her face and a tight cap kept it there. She was having a tiny disagreement with the caterer’s chef about his idea of appropriate garnishes. She noticed him lose focus on her and stopped in mid-tirade. Turning, she blinked at Alison. “What are you doing here?” Her gaze flickered to the large clock on the wall automatically.
Making sure the chef doesn't disembowel you with a wooden spoon. "Saving your behind and bringing the dress to you since you won't come to it. Despite repeated calls to your cell phone from the poor thing, so desperate to be worn tonight." The words drew an appreciative snicker from a nearby undercook, who then scuttled off in terror as the chef turned his glare on him for a brief instant.
Lorna shook her head, “Can’t. Not nearly done here.” She glared at the rest of the kitchen who got back to work in a flurry of movement that, to the untrained eye, looked more like it was thirty seconds to chaos than three hours from ready to present. Even while arguing, Lorna’s gloved hands moved independently, piping a creamy coral substance into bite size pastry puffs.
Alison raised an eyebrow at her silently, wondering how long it would take for the Chef's head to explode. The poor man's mustache was on end and quivering. "Loooorna. You hire a Chef and caterers to do a job. Riiiiight? That means it's generally considered rude to try and do the poor man's job for him."
Lorna shrugged, “Rude is one thing, not being ready ontime is another. He’s a professional even if he does have barbaric ideas about garnish. Which means his job is to see what needs to get done does.” Lorna quirked an eyebrow at the chef who nodded reluctantly in agreement. “That means me staying.”
With a patient sigh, Alison shifted her weight, settling down for the long battle to come. "Lorna, you can't spend the entire evening here doing the caterer's work. That what they're here for. You'll need time to get ready for tonight and be downstairs on time when Brent comes to pick you up." Heck, I need to skedaddle and get ready soon myself and I do that a lot faster than you!
Lorna made a face. “If they’d done what they were supposed to I wouldn’t be here at all.” She looked at the clock again and made some mental adjustments to her plans for getting ready. “I still have time,” she said stubbornly. The catering chef had given up glaring and was now harassing one of the cooks, leaving Alison and Lorna in their own island of calm among the industry.
Taking a deep breath, Alison prepared herself to stand her ground - and then gave up. "Ok." She sighed, shoulders slumping. "You do what you want," she said softly, looking down briefly at the canapés before giving the catering chef a last look.
Lorna noticed Alison’s uncharacteristic capitulation but didn’t really spend any time thinking about it. “Thanks ever so, mommy,” she responded absently and proceeded to hurry on to her next task, moving around her roommate as though she wasn’t there.
Having turned around to go, Alison paused. Mommy? Slowly she pivoted around again, glaring at the damn canapés. "Lorna? Move. Or the food gets it." She smiled pleasantly at her, while lazily pointing a finger at the food displayed on the counter. "Betcha the garnish sizzles nicely."
Lorna and three cooks all made identical noises of alarm and flung themselves forward to protect the food which nearly resulted in its getting squashed. The cooks of course, had no idea what Alison had in mind but they weren’t taking any chances. The crazy green haired lady would make them do it over if it was ruined. Lorna, who knew exactly what her roommate had in mind, also knew that Alison was perfectly serious behind that calm smile. “If we aren’t ready on time, it’s all your fault.” She stripped off her gloves and hauled her apron over her head.
"Careful," Alison said, helpfully. "And you know? There is enough food here ready so that the caterers can keep the hungry masses fed until they finish the rest." She paused, and took a step back. "And regardless of that useful fact, I have utter and complete faith in the professionalism and skills of the people in this room to get everything ready on time. Because they are that good at what they do." Alison beamed at the others in the room with her trademark 'fall in love with me now' smile.
Lorna didn’t doubt that they all did; Alison had that kind of charisma. “Let’s go. These people have work to do.” She dragged Alison out of the kitchen, giving everyone she passed some kind of suggestion or compliment along the way.
"Yes ma'am!" Alison murmured, highly amused with the notion of being dragged out while she had been the one trying to pry Lorna from the food just a few moments ago. This evening would be interesting, she decided. And Lorna was doing her best not to think about it. For a moment, Alison felt rather sorry for Brent - she'd have to talk to him at one point in the evening. Somehow.
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