"The Department of Works? Sounds about right." The Jenny of a month ago would have found the whole thing absurd. But then again, the Jenny of a month ago worked for the Mirage. Technically she still<em>did</em>- but most cocktail waitresses didn't get time off to go running off to locations unknown. Most cocktail waitresses couldn't catch a flight out of McCarran where, given that road transport into Vegas was now an impossibility, had become more busy even as pretty much every other airport in the country had run down to a crawl. Most cocktail waitresses didn't have their image blazoned on one out of every two bus stop benches and one out of every three buses on the Strip with the caption - NEED HELP? CALL JENNY! 867-5309. For that matter, most cocktail waitresses didn't have their phone numbers magically changed to name-appropriate 1980's song lyrics.<br/><br/>Her W-2 said she worked for The Mirage, but in reality, she now worked for The City.<br/><br/>The good news was that this time, she knew the trip was coming, so unlike at least half the time, when she was putting out fires (sometimes literally) in her cocktail dress, here she was comfortably dressed in a white Absinthe T-Shirt and  a pair of cargo shorts. She was certainly glad that she had the month - things were certainly going crazy both in The City and out, but at least now, things had come to a point where she could be away.<br/><br/>Which meant - here. Looking back at the others, she smiled, a bit wearily, and said, "Well the only one here I know is Alex, but it looks like we're going to have to work together, so we might as well get to know each other. I'm Jenny. I'm from Vegas. Really I work for her - The City I mean. I know it sound funny, but, probably less funny than it would've before this all started, and I get kind of the feeling that the three of you might have a better understanding of what I mean than most people."