Post by bronwyn on Jul 12, 2011 16:00:21 GMT -5
{ but when the sun comes up
I’ll still be around, 'cuz it’s summertime.
[/font].....
[/color]Food!
Bronwyn came to a teetering halt balanced on her toes, craning her neck to catch another whiff of that wonderful cinnamon-y smell that had just dragged her out of her lonesome thoughts. The power suited businesswoman who’d been unfortunate enough to get caught behind her in the flow of traffic mercilessly- and purposely, Bronwyn was sure- rammed into her, knocking the brunette into a stumble before sashaying away with the clack clock clack clock of heels. Bronwyn narrowed her eyes as she glared at the woman’s disappearing blonde head, but the next inhale brought her out of her silent fume at the woman’s lack of manners, New Yorker or not. Right, there was food lurking nearby. Righting herself, she waded through the sea of people until she stood safely on the outskirts of Manhattan traffic.
The source of the delectable odor became apparent once the tide of bobbing heads and ever-moving bodies disappeared. Starbucks loomed before her, all pastries and styrofoam cups. Bronwyn’s lips twisted into a half smile as she shouldered open the door. Food was just was she needed right now, and not just because her stomach had suddenly decide to stage a noisy, rumbling revolt and try to claw its way out of her body to get to the food faster. Food would- hopefully- take her mind off of the last five hellacious days. Ever since school had broken for the summer, her social connections had been slipping. Everyone was busy. They already had plans. They were leaving for vacations with their families. They had internships to be at. Blah blah blah. The bottom line remained: they didn’t have time to chill with measly little Bronwyn Beckett. Five days without any physical human contact or face time with her buds had left Bronwyn feeling a bit abandoned and a lot sulky. She knew herself well enough to know that food would distract her, if only for few minutes.
Cool air traced its icy fingers over her still warm, sun-kissed skin as she sidled into line to place her order, pushing her sunglasses up from the bridge of her nose to rest in her dark hair. Her blue eyes scanned over the glassed-in treasure chest brimming with blueberry scones, banana nut muffins and other such yummy goodies. Mouth watering at the thought of sugar sugar sugar, she swallowed and tore her eyes away from the pastries before her body convinced her brain that everything looked too scrumptious to pass on. She didn’t have enough money for that- after all, she wasn’t one of the ones fortunate enough to have a fancy dancy internship this summer. Oh well.
Bronwyn stepped up to the register when her turn finally came. She ordered a frozen coffee to combat the heat, and a double chocolate muffin to appease her grumbling tummy. Money was exchanged, and the poor, frazzled looking barista smiled tiredly and told her they’d call her name when her order was ready. She nibbled on the muffin the barista handed her, sidestepping out of the way of the flux of other paying customers. Her eyes flitted over Starbuck’s assembly of tables as she waited, ticking off the number of people in the room. Seems she wasn’t the only one without anything better to do on a Tuesday afternoon. Seventeen other unfortunate souls, mostly of the older crowd, sat in clusters of two or three, or huddle on their laptops. Her heart sank when realization struck that she was probably the youngest one here. What? Didn't people her age like caffeine anymore?
“Bronwyn?” the barista making drinks asked, stumbling over her name like the letters clashed over each other in his mouth. She sighed, mentally cursing her parents for the billionth time about their choice in her name. She took her drink and made her mind up on the spot. Sliding into the seat across from the only person who looked to be around her age, she smiled and tried to look friendly and not starved for human interaction.
“Hi!” she chirped, smiling broadly. It occurred to her that maybe she should have checked to make sure there weren’t bits of muffin stuck between her teeth first, but it was too late for that now. “I’m Bronwyn. We don't really know each other, but maybe we should. Fate and all that.” She waved her hand dismissively, as if fate was explanation enough for everything.
.....
words : seven three four[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
lyrics : “wet hot american summer” cobra starship
