Marianna slumped down on a barstool and laid her head down on the bar. She tried to stifle a yawn. She didn't really have to come in tonight. It appeared that Daniela had taken care of things quite capably (and it helped that Ellie was supervising in the kitchen, Nicolas was tending bar, and Marina was overseeing the waitstaff). With her hair tied up in Princess Leia buns, Mari could barely, but happily, hear the cash register dinging every couple of minutes.
      "Hey, whatever happened to no faces on the bar?" Nicolas asked, wiping down the bar around Mari's head.
      "Owner's perogative," she mumbled. "Do you see a tall, blond guy with glasses?"
      "You mean besides Frogman?"
      "He's got glasses?" Marianna bothered to lift her head and look around. "Hmm. So he does. But I didn't say green, Nic, I just-- never mind, there he is. I'll be back."
      Mari flew through the kitchen doors just as Colin came through the revolving door, Liam just behind him. She promptly slammed into Ellie, who thankfully was only carrying a ham sandwich, and not a bowl of hot soup or other potentially-burn-causing food.
      "Avoiding someone?" Ellie asked, looking to see if there were any old boyfriends, old husbands, or old parole officers milling about in the Club.
      "No, actually I'm rather glad to see him. I just want to touch up my makeup."
      "You don't wear makeup." Ellie rearranged the disturbed ham sandwich.
      "Is it too late at night for a facelift?"
      "No, it's too early in the morning. Come on, Mari, you look like you're twenty-three years old, which is more than I can say for anyone else, including Pandora, who's twenty-four."
      "Yeah, but I still have to fix my hair. This is the way it was when I was at the seminar." She looked down at her Gap drawstring jeans, generic white t-shirt, and Old Navy performance fleece (in custom-made hot pink with navy trim). "At least I had the presence of mind to change into something more attractive than that pantsuit I wore to the seminar today. But what am I going to do with this hair?!" Mari tore at the cinnamon rolls on her head, and they tumbled down to her waist in damp curls. "And I left it wet this morning!" she wailed.
      Ellie started grinning. Mari raised an eyebrow. Ellie started giggling. "I don't think this is very funny," Mari glowered. Ellie snorted.
      "On the contrary, it's really quite hilarious." Ellie put the ham sandwich down, and promptly fell to the floor laughing.
      "Ellie!" Mari whined, stamping the floor with her foot. It was then that she heard a throat cleared behind her. She froze.
      "The girl on the stage said I would find you in here." The light British accent caused chills up and down Marianna's spine. They were good and awful at the same time.
      "Oh, fruit," Mari swore. Then she realized what she'd said, and, struck by the irony of the situation (and hoping irony outweighed embarassment), turned with a self-effacing smile plastered on her face. "Hi, how much of my tirade did you hear?"
      "Just the bit about your hair," Colin answered. "By the way, is your friend alright?"
      "Oh, you must have mistaken this fired lunatic for a friend of mine. She'll be fine as soon as I kick her in the head for not saying anything when you came in." Mari pulled on the bottom of her performance fleece, wondering how to handle this without it looking like she... couldn't handle... her waitstaff. "Ellie, I'll kill you later. Colin, would you like to go out to the front with me and maybe grab a drink?"
      "I'd be delighted," he answered, glancing nervously down at Ellie, who was still convulsing on the floor. "I don't suppose your bartender makes a decent pina colada?"
      "Why of course," Mari replied, leading the way into the Club and to the bar. "But haven't you heard? The fashionable thing now is hard lemonade."
      Marianna could swear she saw Colin's ears perk up like a cat's. "Did you say... lemonade?"

      By dawn, the Club had cleared out and cleaned up, with the notable exceptions of Marianna, Colin, Doreen, and Liam. Mari and Colin were lying on their backs on the stage, talking quietly about their precocious second-graders and watching a light show Inda Nett had programmed in during a bout of drunken boredom. It was a good thing they were also drunk, because otherwise the lights would have made them vomit.
      Doreen and Liam were in the kitchen, well away from both the lights and their friends' drunken state. Seeing an abandoned ham sandwich on the counter, Doreen was inspired to create the grinder to end all grinders. She also was engaged in explaining to Liam what a grinder was. "Hoagie? Sub?" Liam shook his head at all the alternate names Dori could come up with.

      In the corner of the kitchen, Ellie had finally laughed herself into unconsciousness. She was now peacefully, and unnoticed, sleeping off the effects of mirth.

      Oh, there was one more person in the Club, in the infamous corner table by the front window. He was drunk, slumped over his table, with only one thing on his mind. "I am not leaving until I get my damn ham sandwich," Frogman slurred.

Next time... I think it's about time I did a Dream story. Now I just need fodder... thank the Great Goddess for the annual Thanksgiving football game!