Spatial Awareness

McBurger's

"Welcome to McBurger's, what can we do for ya?" She really accentuates the 'Mac'. Can you accentuate something that doesn't exist, Tilly wonders? People down here are awful strange.

Down is up, actually. Tilly is from Florida as much as a 27 year old who's only spent two years there can be. It's really south in a few ways - including all the most factual ones - but also manages to separate itself the region. She sees the news they show out in California; the south is a stain, and Florida's a stain with some theme parks. Disneyland has got to be one of the worst places she could imagine, so if the talking-heads were right she would be somewhere much farther away than Atlanta, and certainly wouldn't be dreaming of making it back one day. 

Despite spending her 25 other year in, of course, Georgia, Tilly still gets irrationally angry when people call it MacBurger's. How about when all they ever have at the corner store is peach pie? Well, the only pie, perhaps. They'll have stuff like cokes and wonderbread too and they'll probably have a couple apple pies, cause it's not like they're sovereign, but it's mostly peach, she convinces herself. Lord knows how a place got so obsessed with a fruit in the first place. Tilly's father is from England, and her mother from Wyoming and they've both shared the sentiment that the closest thing they ever ate to a fruit was a potato.  Someone they still found meaning in their lives, apparently. 

"Gimme a couple chicken nuggets," she answers, deciding not to share her internal monologues.

"A couple?"

"Um. How much can two dollars getcha?" She slides forward a single bill.

"That'll buy you a five-piece."

Boy! they come quick; instant gratification, the American way. The waitress? Burgerista? turns away, on to the next already, didn't even care that a two dollar bill came her way. Tilly figured that would be a bit more... something. Gratifying or degrading or at least something.

"Hey, is there a limit on how many ketchup packies you can take?"

"Nope, take whatever you-" she falters when she turns to see Tilly with two handfuls of the things, but after a hesitant moment of deliberation, continues, "Take whatever you need." She really accentuates the 'need' but does so with a see-no-evil smile. Perhaps she remembered she was working a job she could probably easily replace, under a boss she likely wants to, and that no amount of sauce was worth the trouble.

 Tilly starts toward her usual booth, walking carefully, so as to not spill her overflowing hoard of condiments.