Monday mornings, the bane of existence. Emily slammed a hand down on the screeching alarm clock, stopping the discordant noise before making groaning noises in her head.  She hated opening the coffee shop on Mondays since it meant no breakfast and a hurried shower, before coasting down on her old Cannondale to Blue’s Café.  The Café’s formal name was Picasso’s Blue Period Café after the artist’s phase of creating paintings in a monochromatic palette, but university students tended to shorten things and now it was fondly called Blue’s Café.  A barista there for a little over two years, Emily typically enjoyed the early shift since it left her afternoons free.  Monday’s were different because the opening barista needed to arrive additionally early to turn on the vintage Delonghi espresso machine, and do additional duties like prepping the counters, as well as accepting pastry and newspaper deliveries.  Also, Monday patrons tended to be grumpier, giving less tips and more mouth.<br/><br/>She unlocked the back door, pushing the bike in before her, and hurriedly punched in the security code, sighing in relief after hearing the cheerful chirp of the alarm disarming itself.  The café was large enough to have two floors, and wall to wall windows, providing enough light for Emily to do most of the morning duties without switching on the lights.  Cozy sitting areas close to windows created by groupings of deep wing back chairs, small tables and tiffany shaded lamps, Blue’s Café felt like home.  Since this was her time, the music of choice this morning was the Lumineers most recent CD, cranked up to a louder than life decibel.  By the time the doors opened at 6am, the morning duties were completed, and she was on her second cappuccino.<br/><br/>Tall with shoulder length silver blonde hair, currently a bright pink, Emily enjoyed dressing in second hand clothing artfully coordinated.  Today, her muscular legs were in ripped pink fishnet stockings, under vintage denim culottes, with weathered Doc Marten boots, laced in sparkly twine.  She wore a tight fitting dark brown tank top under a pastel cardigan to emphasize her dark brown eyes.  Longtime customers enjoyed her spunky personality and whimsical outfits.  They also appreciated how she remembered their drinks and often had it ready by the time it was their turn to order.<br/><br/>Angela, the second barista, joined her at 7am and always had colorful stories of her weekend adventures.  She was a burlesque dancer with a huge following, both male and female.  Now with another barista on site, Emily took her break.  Sitting outside in the growing sunlight, she sipped her coffee and checked for updates on<i>Innocent Innuendos</i>, a role-playing site Angela had turned her on to.  “You enjoy writing and should be able to find a lot of like minded people to write with,”  Angela encouraged.  So far, she’d worked on an introduction and was crafting a request thread.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1118" data-username="@dunklunk" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1118/">@dunklunk</a>