FO4 | Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy ✔️

June 25, 2270

I finished making a Radstag steak dinner and two plates of razorgrain spaghetti and set them aside for the server to pick up. As I was tossing all the dishes into the sink, she rounded the corner and grabbed the three plates and gave me a bit of praise. 

"You're cookin' up a storm today, John," said the middle-aged woman. Her name was Anne.

"Yeah, pretty busy today," I remarked as I dunked my hands into the water to find the first spatula to wash.

"Well, don't worry about staying to finish up. Just wash what you've got and I'll handle the rest."

"You sure? I don't care to do some overtime."

"Nah, I've got this. Thanks, John."

I decided to take her advice. I finished what was in the sink, dried off my hands, and made way for the door. It was nice to get off work on time. I was dyin' for a cigarette and a Mentat.

"Hey, John, don't forget your pay!" called Randy from the bar.

I backtracked a bit, took my caps from him, and turned back toward the door. "Thanks, Randy," I called over my shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

I breathed in a breath of hot summer air and let it out in a whoosh. I was used to the work and had gotten damn good at it, but that didn't mean I liked it. A job was a job, and caps were caps. My money went on my house taxes, food, and chems. There was no such thing as savings.

The best thing about working with Randy was his weekend guitar sessions. Every Saturday and Sunday, he'd play his guitar for the patrons around seven o'clock, and I always got a kick out of it. Told him I was interested, and he started givin' me free lessons, the fuckin' saint. Haven't had a pastime since... well...

I took a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it. Then I made my way to a little shop in the middle of town that sold prewar junk. Sometimes they'd have some packaged prewar food.

I browsed young Mirna's shop until I found somethin' I wanted — a box of mac 'n' cheese, a can of Cram, some crackers — and paid her some caps for 'em. She put 'em in a plastic bag for me, and I went to the butcher next.

The butcher's shop was called Choice Chops and was located on First Street close to Diamond City's entrance. All their meat came from Codman Family Farms, and their cringy slogan was, "Nice to meat you, what can we chop for you today?"

The man behind the table under the shed asked me just that, and I made the same face I always did. "What do you have on offer today?"

"We have Brahmin, Radstag, Molerat, Mirelurk, and if you're hurtin' for caps we got Radroach."

"I'd like to never eat another Radroach in my life, thanks. I'll take the Brahmin."

"Good choice. We have flank, rib, and sirloin."

"Gimme the sirloin. I'm a man of taste, ya feel me?"

"That I do, sir." He took a piece of sirloin that was pre-cut off a cutting board. "Would you like this raw or cooked?"

"Eh, I'll cook it at home."

He wrapped the sirloin in plastic wrap and handed me the meat. I put it in my bag with the rest of my groceries.

"Thank you for your patronage."

"Thanks, brother. Take care."

I got to my house and searched my pocket for my key. My hands were a little shaky since I was due for a Mentat, so I had trouble getting the key and putting it into the door handle.

"Hello, John," said a sickeningly sweet voice from my left.

I slowly turned my head and looked. After all these years, there she stood: Maggie Black. She wore a hooded capelet over her lightly armored body and her signature black combat boots.