<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#800000">Caoimhe sat in her car, staring at the front of the builing. Waitressing sucked, but it paid the bills that her dad's 'disability' money didn't. She slowly, with the little bit of willpower she had left, forced herself to get out of the car. Her uniform was wrinkled. Again. She was going to get yelled at. Again. But for some reason Mama never fired her. That was the owner's name. Mama. She didn't go by her real name. She went by <i>freaking</i> Mama. The fat old Italian woman was a hard boss, but she seemed to occasionally care about her employees and customers. Caoimhe shrugged into her jacket and out of her daze. It was time to go back to work. She straightened the little red tie she wore, and tugged at the knee-length black skirt. When she was satisfied that her stark white shirt didn't have any huge stains, she made her was inside. She got to be here early today. Whoopie.</span>