Ask to work here

You gesture to the man with something approaching a 'hello'. The red-faced geezer behind the counter wipes his hand on his black apron and raises an eyebrow, approaching as he does.

“Excuse me… I was wondering if you were hiring.”

He looks you up and down. Taking in your grey skin, the state of your hands, and other things. He lets out a loud laugh after a while.

He plants his thick arms on the counter. “You don’t look like you’ve ever kneaded dough in your life, girl.”

He eyes you again. Carefully. Judging just how you might do. The man scratches his chin. Thinking.

“I can start you today. One lentime at the end of each work shift, which'll last you the whole of the day. You’ll be hauling trays, serving customers, and scrubbing pans. Pay’s shit. Temperature's shit. You'll sweat like a pig, and you'll smell like bread for the rest of the day, for better or worse. How's it sound?

You nod. “Sounds great. I think.” You let out a wry laugh.

He nods back. “Name's Nulfhild. You?”

“Yera.”