Wed. July 14th.

It's a Waves. It's free internet, mediocre coffee (a step above Starbucks, millions away from the decadence of Elysian or Continental) and freaky employees.
A boy sits at a black baby grand that they've hauled across Broadway I'm sure.
Lights, camera, action.
One stroke of the key, one shoulder shrug and he's off and done.

(Commercial collapse set up)

The girls at the till are decked out today, movie time, time to shine.
She's the manager.
She lets everyone know, continuously asserting her position with sugar coated words like 'sweets', 'hon', 'darling'.
I hate that shit.
Her mouth slimes into a tiny smile when she tells them what to do.
Power assertion compensating for something.
Plug in, forget where I am.