feel no ways.

AVA BLAKE + INSTAGRAM;

                 10/3/18                      location: north end.

“I don’t know about couples lobotomies, but they probably do couples sterilization, which would be better than nothing,” she mused. Erin quickly glanced back at the couple, which she immediately knew was a mistake, and her eyes returned to Ava. “I don’t think I ever saw the live-action one. But I did like the tv show. I always wanted to have a cat named Hot Dog, but my parents were kinda lame about that stuff. When I was little, our cat was Abby the Tabby. And now they have a cat named Mittens. I was in high school when we got her, and I was so pissed about the name that I would always say shit like ‘who is this Mittens you speak of?’ or something. And I only referred to her as Iron Maiden.” Erin laughed, shaking her head at her past dramatics. “How much time is left in your shift?”

                  "I literally love the name Hot Dog for a cat. Cat’s should either have the most out there names, like Hot Dog, or... Sultana, or something. That, or the most mundane. Like Debbie, or Janet– or Jeff. Just... a cat named Debbie is so funny to me. But, yeah–– nothing in between.” It was clear she had lain more thought into the subject of cat names than what was ordinary, but if she could unload it on anyone, it was Erin Lhapka, “See, mittens? Expected. Iron Maiden? Epic,” Laughing softly at the thought of the woman hailing the feline to the moniker, her parents dismayed, it took her a moment to realize another question had been asked before tawny hues drifted to the clock overhead, “About ten minutes... Would you wait?”

“I know, right? Between this and that old guy who comes in here reeking like cigars and cheap liquor, we really should’ve had a couple of raises under our belts by now if you ask me,” June said and chuckled lightly, sharing a secret sort of smile with Ava. It was the kind of smile only waitresses could understand, because only waitresses could understand the work — Especially when it came to a place like Munchers were the customer base ranged from milkshake drinking pre-teens to high schoolers, family dads and old loners. They saw them all, and usually within a span of one day.

June was used to it now though. She had worked there for over six months and had seen it all — Almost at least. This ongoing public display of affections was a little bit on the heavier side of the things she had seen so far though, and loss of appetite was almost a given. “I mean, I would love to do you that favour, but I don’t know if I have it in me. They’re in love, right?” She sighed dreamily, but she couldn’t help the crinkle across her nose after another glance in their direction. “Disgustingly in love. If you ever come in acting like that, I’ll have to redirect you to somewhere else. That’s the best I can do.”

               “Oh, Tony ‘Wanna Be’ Soprano. With the leather jacket and those sideburns,” This time her gag wasn’t held back: it wasn’t real either, but tagged with a laugh when her stuck-out tongue found its way back in her mouth, “It gives me a headache, all that cologne, liquor, and cigar. A raise is exactly what we need for all the trouble,” Though the pair, one blonde and one brunette, spoke and joked in jest, Ava was half-serious about the raise thing and she had a good feeling June was too. 

               A pout creased Ava’s mouth downward at June’s confession, though glints of mirth shone like constellations, “It’s either that or death by asphyxiation. There’s no way I’ll have time to breathe caught up in the middle of all... all that,” She said, the emphasis on the last word enough to know without having to look at the travesty again. It was so easy sitting there, laughing with June, she couldn’t remember why she was ever stiff around her in the first place; stupid, stupid reasons, surely, ones she couldn’t quite kick, “Fair enough. Just send me running to the hills, or better yet, prison,” Smiling, she chewed absentmindedly on the tip of her pinky, when curiosity filled her to the brim, “... Have you ever been in love like that?” 

                                       Adam chuckled lightly, his torso leaned in over the counter like the two of them were sharing secrets at the speed of light, careful not to miss a deadline—- even though the couple that was currently the focus of their subject clearly didn’t even register the fact that they were in a public place, much less the waitress and the blonde guy mumbling to her. “I’m gonna need to see your contract, because this is outrageous,” he said in a faux dramatic voice, making a fist with his hand and pretending to bang it on the countertop, even if it amounted only to a soft ‘thud’ of a sound. With a chuckle and a winded sigh, he leaned back a little bit, palms sliding from the middle of the counter to the edge with a light grip. “If I were a hot shot lawyer, I’d do something about that,” he joked lightly, a boyish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A hot shot lawyer probably couldn’t really do much about people making out in public come to think of it, but he did genuinely feel bad for Munchers’ waitresses—- or at least his toes curled in secondhand embarrassment for them having to witness such public displays of affection while handling food. Mossy sea colored hues darted to meet the warm sienna of of Ava’s when she posed an interesting question, one that made his head tilt to the side slowly. “There’s no normal when it comes to true love,” he said. “It just doesn’t exist. So I guess, for them it could be? Depends on the couple, and the love. But… you know that, right?” He perked a brow, curious obviously, but careful to not be invasive.

                 Adam’s theatrics with his fist in a gavel, demanding justice for all of Munchers’ waitresses, had Ava laughing like a little girl; eyes alight, dimples on display, head thrown back with the wind. It was easy to forget the woes of adulthood for something more childlike; guileless and youthful, pure, whenever you were honoured with the golden man’s presence. Ava could help a lot of things, but she couldn’t help that. “It’s never too late to save our souls, Adam,” She laughed, sliding over a caddy of milk, cream, and sugar toward the blonde, “If anyone can do it, you can. It’s only ten more years of schooling and hundreds of thousands of dollars, but at least you’ll be doing the three of us a favour. That’s all that matters, right?” She already felt better, mind and stomach, come Adam’s easy distraction from the Stanley Cup Finals of tongue hockey nearby.

                 By the time Adam started to consider her question, oceanic hues moony, the couple was nearly forgotten all together as she awaited an answer about life and love from the man who knew it the best. “So it’s a subjective type-thing. I figured–– I could never picture you and Sierra being that extra,” A soft laugh parted her lips, but died out come Adam’s earnest question, “Who, me?” She wanted to laugh at that too. She was flattered, sure, but she hadn’t had so much as a boyfriend before, never mind a ‘true love’, “... I think you’re mixing me up,” Ava smiled, waving it off, but a flash of a deep-set emerald gaze flared up in her grey matter before quickly dying out, and she grew a little more earnest; her shoulders lowering a little more too, “Because I, um... I think it’s a really rare thing– ‘true love’, or whatever. I’ve only met a handful of people who’ve found it,” And by handful, she meant those she could count on one hand: Adam and Sierra, Zoe, one of the elderly waitresses who manned the morning shift: Dawn, her name was. Ava didn’t even count her own parents in that list, who had been together for over thirty years. “You’re one of those lucky ones,” She shrugged, not going on in fear she’d poison the mood with the words, ‘I, on the other hand, am not.’

                     The ‘lovers’ were the tunnel, and Ava the light at the end of it, the petite waitress with the kind inviting eyes a savior in the absurd exchange of praise and four letter words delivered at break-neck speed, none of it ever sticking long enough before it turned into something else. 

The fact that those two people, not her and Ava but the couple, had found each other in the first place was baffling to Sofia, who couldn’t imagine two people that weirdly screwed together existed in the first place.

But they did, and the moment she could get away from it, she felt better. Not good enough to say no to pie and ice cream of course, but better for sure. “You’re a life saver, you know that? You should talk to your boss and get the insurance to cover any loss of customers because of those,” She said and shot a backwards thumb in the couples direction, not looking their way though. 

“Yeah,” She crinkled her nose, features pinching in disapproval, “Don’t chance it. You don’t wanna end up in a sandwich between those two— that would left you scarred forever,” She japed and watched the ice cream soften atop the delicious piece of apple pie, just waiting for teeth to sink into it. 

Picking up the fork, she looked at Ava with a wide grin brightening her visage, mien light and full of mirth. “Thank you so much, this is just what I needed.” When she mused about the pair, Sofia couldn’t help but shoot them a glance over her shoulder, a shrug ensuing. “I don’t know, but I hope it’s not, because that’s too disgusting.”

              “Insurance–– that is a great idea. It’s lunch time and this place is blowing tumbleweeds,” Observed the elfin waitress, glancing around, “Everyone loves love, but no one loves love this much... that made sense, right?” Ava laughed, cringing a bit at how many times she said ‘love’ in a single breath, before shaking her head, and eyes the hue of caramel darting to the jut of Sofia’s thumb. They lingered for a moment or two, but the string of saliva that her eye caught had her whole body racking with shudders and fawny features screwing in a gag, “I feel like I’m on Fear Factor,” She whispered, eyes screwing shut.

              When they opened again, they were like a pair of magpies; searching for the prettiest thing in the room, and oh, how lucky she was for it to be right in front of her, a beacon; Sofia. “Forever,” She echoed the word, wiping her hands free of crust crumbs on the lap of her apron, “And besides,” Ava began, lips in her coy curve, shrugging as she readied thought to tongue that bore on the more risqué side of things, “The only couple really worth... ‘participating’ with, was Brangelina, but that window’s long gone now.”

              “You’re welcome,” Ava commended with a smile, returning to wrapping silverware in napkins, but her attention remained dutifully honed on Sofia, “You say that now, but if I ever see you in here, eskimo kissing and turning innocent children’s characters into phallic innuendos, I totally get to say ‘I told you so’.”

Erin watched the couple in disgust, the fries she had ordered now cold and pushed away. It was no longer safe to eat. Erin was torn - part of her wanted to stand up and yell at the couple. She had no shortage of colorful language and profanities, which she typically had no problem hurling at strangers. But that would mean having to interact with two grotesque beings, and Erin wasn’t sure she could handle that. So she was going to just pay her check and leave. As she was getting up to do so, the woman decided to abandon any final shred of dignity and utter the phrase “Your ‘pennis’ is the menace.”  Erin snorted, a sound that came from both laughter and abject terror. As her eyes caught another’s, she smiled, quickly walking up to her. “Yeah, I think I need a lobotomy now.”

                 “Me too,” She laughed, hushed, as Erin arrived to save the day, “Do you think they, like, do couples lobotomies? I mean, if they can do them with massages–” Ava half-joked, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a gag, but Erin’s presence was already mollifying her discomfort. Hands, small, nimble, and svelte, rose to hide her face away from the onslaught of PDA, only peeking at Erin between fingers, “‘Pennis the Mennace’... Poor Mr. Wilson is rolling in his cartoon and live-action grave right now.”

June was finding it impossible to enjoy her lunch with the very public display of… Well, affection? But also non-affection. It seemed the couple across from her couldn’t really figure out what they felt for each other, at least not before it changed into the opposite again. By the time they made up again, crushing their faces against each other, June gave up on the pasta salad in front of her, dumping the plastic fork into the bowl and pushing it into the centre of the table. That’s when she noticed Ava, their eyes locking in a moment of transparent understanding — They were essentially both victims of the couples public ‘whatever-it-was’ and it seemed they shared the same distaste for it, and maybe a spoonful of amusement too. That’s when she picked up her half eaten lunch and walked past the slobbering couple, taking a seat at Ava’s table instead, her back now turned to the couple though they were still pretty hard to ignore. “What have we done to deserve this? I mean, is this the world we live in now?” She hissed among a dry laugh.

               The mirage of the blonde that appeared was something she found comfort in, awash with it even, but even that couldn’t muddle the small pierce of resentment that punctured at her heart, and the self-loathing that spooled in her at the fact. God, she was really pathetic–– June Munroe, wrapped in a nutshell, was iridescent. Maybe that’s why she was jealous. An iridescent person only came around once in a lifetime; a rarer thing than a mine of red diamonds, surely. She just wished it were her.

               “As if we don’t get enough BS at work already,” And ill-feelings of insecurity and jealousy alike are dismissed by laughter in June’s presence. Ava grinned and propped her chin on her hand, glancing between the blonde and the couple who now, unfortunately, had ventured onto the plain of hickeys, “Do me a favour? If you ever, ever see me like that in public, just... end it all for me. This is me officially giving you my consent.”

                       It felt wrong to be close enough to overhear and see most of what was going on in the couple’s own little bubble, Olivia’s face flushed in light embarrassment and her eyes trained on the tall milkshake in front of her. Part of her couldn’t help wonder what it must have been like to be so in love that behaving like that in public was unavoidable. It was sweet at first, kind of remarkable how they clearly only had eyes for each other, even when banter turned a little sharper. It was when the ‘dirty’ talk suddenly appeared that even Olivia couldn’t manage to keep her reaction entirely under wraps, her eyes widening and gaze shooting up to meet Ava’s. Her shift must have just started, or else Olivia would’ve taken a seat at the counter instead, but in the aftermath of ‘Pennis the Menace’, she decided a relocation wouldn’t be out of the question, and grabbed her milkshake and hurried across the floor like an apologetic church mouse, taking a seat at the counter. “Did I really hear her right— did she say… that?” She leaned in and whispered, eyes wide in wonder.

                                           Talk about love and Adam would surely be the kind to jump in and give his two cents—- he was a hopeless romantic at heart, had plenty of experience; over a decade’s worth, and he’d recently found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Well, to be fair, he’d never assumed he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life with Sierra, but it wasn’t until recently that it had become as more than friends. Strangely enough, it hadn’t been weird at all. It had felt natural, meant to be, and even though he couldn’t ever see him and Sierra displaying their love like the two in the booth two down from his at Munchers, he supposed he understood. Well, up until the Pennis the Menace thing, at least. The place had its fair share of doe-eyed waitresses, and among them, Ava was definitely one Adam was always happy to see whenever he swung by for a chocolate malt or a hangover meal. In the last year though, those occurrences had been less and less with Mia taking up so much of his time. Now that he was here though, he was glad to find an allied witness to the insatiable couple, and when he ducked out of his booth and hurried to a seat by the counter with his half empty basket of fries and barely touched malt, he scrunched up his nose in amusement. “Is this what you have to endure, huh? You should ask for a raise.”

                        A masculine blur of blonde and gold spliced her sights between the couple and it, and once the vision settled and revealed himself, the grin was broad; comforting; infectious. Adam. “Thank God,” She exhaled out once her gaze settled on him, a hand over her heart for the initial startle, but the exclamation wasn’t from fear–– no, it was at the fact that the perfect person to make this more endurable had magicked before her very eyes, “Unfortunately not,” She started to fix him a cup of coffee, “It’s in our contract to endure public displays of affection, even if it equates to, um... soft core porn,” Hushed laughter left her in bouts, but the word ‘porn’ left her in a whisper; as if she were scared trouble would come with her saying it, “Just ask June, Ophelia, anyone... it’s all in the handbook,” She slid the cup of coffee over, gestures and talk all shared like some secret, her smile too, “... Can I ask you something?” She was earnest now, voice and smile a bit moony as she thought of the blonde male and his raven counterpart, “Coming from someone who’s right at the golden egg of ‘True Love’ himself, is that––” She nodded toward the pair, “... ‘Normal’, for it?”

       She couldn’t hold back the giggle from erupting after confirming what she heard was really what she heard and not the lack of sleep she has been having. Clearing her throat at the thought and looked else where when the couple looked her way before standing up and brushing down the skirt from rising. “Can you believe there’s couples like that out in the real world?” 

                     “Not until about thirty seconds ago. And counting,” Ava laughed softly, happy for the company, even more so for the distraction, “I mean... teenagers have some sort of hall pass, but when you’re on the wrong side of your twenties?” Ava shook her head as she trailed, not going on; simply topping off the woman’s coffee, beautiful but clearly needing it, before offering a sealing shrug, “–– Maybe that’s just true love, you know? Something you can’t understand, until you understand... or whatever,” She tagged on, diluting her sorrowful musing; diluting her reverie. Always diluting.

{ » @avaxblake.

Wiping her hands on her apron before tossing it into the large washing bin, Cecilia stuck her head through the door to the kitchen at uncle Louis’ and waved a dull hand in goodbye. “See you tomorrow Carlos,” she mumbled and turned back around, grabbing her bag and heading out the backdoor onto the quiet street. There wasn’t a lot going on at this hour, which was why she knew Ava was likely as bored on her late night shift as Cecilia had been. It was a fifteen minute brisk walk, but she wasn’t bothered — She had always liked walking, and by the time she pushed through the doors at Munchers, the crisp evening air had pulled any drowsiness from her face and brightened her eyes. As expected, the place was as empty as Louis’ had been, save for a guy in the corner who appeared to be reading the newspaper, though barely awake. Finding Ava behind the counter, Cecilia walked over and took a seat. “Bored yet?”

                    The familiar scent of rising pizza crust and something even more delightful, a singular aroma of fruit and spices, was always the first thing to be noticed come Cecilia’s arrival; a benison of a fragrance, the only way to do it justice. It was what separated her friend from the rest of the door jingles on a customer’s arrival, and coaxed Ava’s head to lift from the task at hand, tawny hues to find her, and a teasing smile to stretch, “Um, are you crazy? Of course not. My earth orbits around filling salt shakers, and my divine purpose lies in filling the peppers’...” The lilt of her laugh breezed like zephyr through the diner come her trail-off. Wiping her hands on her apron and forgetting the shakers all together, Ava’s eyes darted glanced around, here and there, finding no one paying attention to the two, before she pulled a basket of mozzarella sticks from beneath the counter, placing them before Cecilia and her, smile coy in her enigmatic way, “Bossman left early today, so we can eat like the Queen of Sheba herself tonight,” Resting her elbows on the bar, leaning forward onto them, she relaxed then, letting the last slump half-asleep in his seat without thought, “How was–– how was work? ... Was just Louis’ today, or?”

AVA THE DEMON: Don't question it, just get to rectifying it, already. It's not like Lanford is lacking in attractive people. Like what the hell is in the water here?

AVA THE DEMON: What's that got to do with me going out for a friends thing? But yes, he is 99.9% of the time a giant asshole. But it's weird, he's not always terrible. I use that word lightly.

AVA THE MEH: This place is like the apex of sexual frustration. Everyone's hot here. Fuck LA, this is the city of Seraphs.

AVA THE MEH: But truthfully, I just... haven't been in the mood for meaningless sex for months now. I don't know what's wrong with me.

AVA THE MEH: I don't know... Just don't let him ruin it or whatever. I feel like he's capable of it, and I want you to have fun.