honouraryfitz: (impressed)
[personal profile] honouraryfitz
Rusty still isn't sure how she got here--the door she'd opened was supposed to be to a supply closet, not a glittering hotel--but she's not about to complain. The huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling is like something out of a movie, and same with the marble floors and huge wooden front desks. Maybe you could see something like this in New York City, but she certainly hasn't before.

It's funny to think of being like a pioneer in a big, empty hotel, but that's what she feels like. Now more than ever, she's on her own, and she'll need her wits about her to figure things out. First things first: Don't hotels usually have restaurants? She might not be able to afford it, but she could offer to work for some food.

When she gets up to the restaurant floor, there's a buffet piled high with everything she's missed about America: great pots of baked beans, mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes, thick cuts of brisket and turkey, slices of apple pie with sugared crust, and more. Best of all, there's no price listed--to the contrary, the sign seems to indicate she doesn't have to pay at all. Rusty's too hungry to debate further; she piles up a plate with food and sits down to eat.


coquaigne: (Default)
a medieval mythical land of plenty.

June 2012

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