Not at My Best (Quintis AU)

Not at My Best

Toby stumbles out onto the sidewalk, and the backdoor to the bar slams closed behind him. He grunts and falls against the brick wall. Just because he won a buttload of money does not mean that they are alowed to kick him out. He knew the law!

"Screw you guys!" he slurs, banging his fist against the metal door in frustration.

When nobody opens the door at his request, he gives up and drunkinly walks down the alleyway and out towards the open road.

A disgruntled sound emits from the back of his throat, and he glances left and right. Squinting up at the illuminated street lamps, producing a tinged yellow glow onto the cement beneath him. An annoyed scowl grows at the edge of his lips, and he spins on his heels with a grunt and marches off down the sidewalk. Almost knocking himself over in the process, from the quickened movement, in his drunken state.

A few paces down the road, past a couple rather large buildings, and an eerie playground, a large yellow and red sign could be seen in the distance.

He gives a sigh of relief at the comforting sight of the golden arhes. He doesn't know to what extent he would go to for a cup off coffee and cheeseburger at this moment. Who knows how long he was cooped up in that bar. All he knows, is he went in at 8 in the evening, fully sober, and a pocket full of cash. Now, as he digs his hand down into his pocket, he pulls nothing out but dryer lint, and a fewloose pennies he had found deserted on the cement of the parking lot in front of his apartment.

Those idiots that owned the place had taken all his winnings. Claiming he was a cheater, and kicked him to the curb, with nothing left in his pockets. If he stayed any longer he probably would have ended up in this situation anyway.

He stumbles over his own feet, as he picks up his pace. Desperate for a refereshing meal and cup of jo to hopefully get rid of this loopy feeling in his head.

Eventully he's able to finish his trek, and he arrives at his destination a little less than 10 minutes later. Squinting at the blinding lights shining through the wall of windows along either side, but still drunk and giddy as he throws open the glass door.

There was a single worker silently as far as he could see, cleaning the tables with a frown on her face. Her jet balck hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail, letting the ends splay across her shoulders, and using her uniformed cap to pin back her bangs that would have otherwise fallen into her face repeatedly.

She glances up at him, as he stumbles inside with a goofy frin on his face as he looks over at her. Noticing the short flash of recognition on her face.

Before even one incriminating work can make its way out of his mouth, she has her thumb jutted behind her, pointing to the counter. "Cashiers that way dude," and continues cleaning off the crumbs and leftoer straw wrappers from the table and seats.

His smrik falls as he feels a large wave of nasea hits him like a rock.  He stumbles backwards and presses his cold palm to his forehead, groaning from the uncomfortable feeling in his head and stomach.

After a couple of minutes of recooperating he blinks rapidly and fixes his vision on the cashier counter. He needed that coffee now.

He orders to the best of his ability. Making a large attempt not to slur his words togther too badly, and avoid making a huge fool of himself. The cashier doesn't seem to notice, or care for that matter. He just grunts out responses, and types his order into the computer. 'He must be tired' Toby thought, glancing around at the clock in the back. 3:30 am. No wonder he's starving and exhausted.

It doesnt take long for his meal to be set in front of him, at the booth he was sitting soundly at. It wasnt all that bad, in the chilly atmosphere, it sobered him up just a bit...Just a bit.