#thisis70s:start

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: crescent paradise

Working at Crescent Paradise wasn’t Marilyn’s first idea at a stellar job. She’d much rather be interviewing criminals or modeling for Vogue, but alas, that would never happen. Instead, she settled for the easiest job she could and what was easier than laying out in a swimsuit all day? It’s not like people drowned or got eaten by sharks and if they did... well, that’s what her one day CPR training and the police were for! Other than that, she could kinda just do whatever and blow her whistle at ugly people.

Marilyn had long abandoned her post, something she did fairly often, and instead of sitting in her lifeguard chair she was instead laying on a beach towel. If no one was dying, then she was going to sunbathe. She didn’t need to look like some pale freak. As she laid on the towel, soaking in the rays that would eventually give her some kind of skin damage in her late adulthood, she felt the presence of the sun go away. Thinking it was simply the clouds coming out, she raised her disco glasses to sit atop her head, only to be met with a person who was blocking the sun instead. “What?” She snapped. “Unless someone is like, literally dying or combusting into flames right now, I need you to get out of my sun.”

‘you’re not smoking out here, are you?’ the voice of jess’ boss at the roller rink rang out behind the building, where jess was taking an indulgently long break. the back door opened and the manager poked their head out, looking between their employee and the person standing with them. “no one’s smoking out here, man. we’re like, zero percent interested in that stuff. swear on my life,” they assured boss man, who gave them the ol’ stink eye after hearing jess’ strained voice, but still went back inside. the cloud of smoke that exploded out of jess was thick and potent, leaving them coughing, laughing, and extending the joint they’d been hiding behind their back to their partner in crime. “thanks for not blowin’ up my spot. you want a hit?”