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Eliot hasn't been able to determine if Darrow is enough like America that they do Thanksgiving, but he's not taking his chances. It's easily his least favorite holiday; back home he'd wondered when Millennials were going to kill that industry too, since everyone he knew had horrible emotional baggage about it. But he works with a couple of Brits, and Kat's been sort of withdrawn lately, so Thanksgiving doesn't even feel fun to complain about.
Instead it's been business as usual at the Archive, for which Eliot's grateful. He still feels an uncomfortable itch like there is a holiday happening and he should be thinking about it, positively or no, and he doesn't care for that shit at all. So when Eliot leaves work on Thursday he shrugs on his coat and walks homeward, instead of getting a cab, and ducks into the first bar he finds that looks like it might have a chill vibe.
Twenty minutes later he's chatting up one of the locals (Charlie, librarian, looks Yaley but in a shy way) and feeling very pleased with his efforts. Townies might be a bit dull but Eliot asks him what the weirdest thing he ever found in a book drop was and he lights up and begins telling a slew of appalling anecdotes. It's fun, in a way, using social muscles that he's let atrophy. Even if random hookups aren't the best way to cope with being stuck here, Eliot has to make do. And tonight, he likes his chances.
Instead it's been business as usual at the Archive, for which Eliot's grateful. He still feels an uncomfortable itch like there is a holiday happening and he should be thinking about it, positively or no, and he doesn't care for that shit at all. So when Eliot leaves work on Thursday he shrugs on his coat and walks homeward, instead of getting a cab, and ducks into the first bar he finds that looks like it might have a chill vibe.
Twenty minutes later he's chatting up one of the locals (Charlie, librarian, looks Yaley but in a shy way) and feeling very pleased with his efforts. Townies might be a bit dull but Eliot asks him what the weirdest thing he ever found in a book drop was and he lights up and begins telling a slew of appalling anecdotes. It's fun, in a way, using social muscles that he's let atrophy. Even if random hookups aren't the best way to cope with being stuck here, Eliot has to make do. And tonight, he likes his chances.
