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torquillYeah, this dream was less bizarre to experience than most, but weirder when I woke up...
I was getting together with some friends after a convention or something -- we'd had a good time, and we wanted to go out to a nearby restaurant. We'd been there over the course of the convention, so we all knew it, but it was still kind of new to us. I got there a few minutes after the main group, and with a couple more stragglers I went in.
The owner of the restaurant caught my eye and smiled. Granted, that was the Joker's normal expression, but I couldn't see anything but cheerful welcome in it this time, even though I looked carefully as I returned it. He waved over the head server, an associate of his known only as the Volunteer, to take me to the group table; there was no smile on the server's face, but he seemed relaxed and benevolent.
As I headed to the end of the table where Matt had saved me a spot, I set the pliers I was carrying on the table with a bit more noise than I intended, and was immediately shushed. A few people looked down to the other end, where an apron-clad Joker was taking orders. I exchanged greetings with some of the others, and a cheerful chatter started up, but was again shushed to whispers. Everybody knew that if the place was too loud while the Joker was interacting with patrons, that he would lose his concentration and get frustrated, and nobody wanted him upset.
I murmured to Matt that the Joker seemed to be in good spirits, and even the Volunteer was in a good mood. He replied that they had done some good business during the con, and that Joker had gotten both the respect of various fans and treated like a normal restaurant proprietor, both of which stroked his self-esteem. It wasn't easy for an infamous criminal to go straight without getting ostracized as a freak. But since it had gone well, he was cheerful, and presumably he hadn't been so hard on his old crew, now his staff. Including the Volunteer.
No, I don't know where these come from. I really don't.
I was getting together with some friends after a convention or something -- we'd had a good time, and we wanted to go out to a nearby restaurant. We'd been there over the course of the convention, so we all knew it, but it was still kind of new to us. I got there a few minutes after the main group, and with a couple more stragglers I went in.
The owner of the restaurant caught my eye and smiled. Granted, that was the Joker's normal expression, but I couldn't see anything but cheerful welcome in it this time, even though I looked carefully as I returned it. He waved over the head server, an associate of his known only as the Volunteer, to take me to the group table; there was no smile on the server's face, but he seemed relaxed and benevolent.
As I headed to the end of the table where Matt had saved me a spot, I set the pliers I was carrying on the table with a bit more noise than I intended, and was immediately shushed. A few people looked down to the other end, where an apron-clad Joker was taking orders. I exchanged greetings with some of the others, and a cheerful chatter started up, but was again shushed to whispers. Everybody knew that if the place was too loud while the Joker was interacting with patrons, that he would lose his concentration and get frustrated, and nobody wanted him upset.
I murmured to Matt that the Joker seemed to be in good spirits, and even the Volunteer was in a good mood. He replied that they had done some good business during the con, and that Joker had gotten both the respect of various fans and treated like a normal restaurant proprietor, both of which stroked his self-esteem. It wasn't easy for an infamous criminal to go straight without getting ostracized as a freak. But since it had gone well, he was cheerful, and presumably he hadn't been so hard on his old crew, now his staff. Including the Volunteer.
No, I don't know where these come from. I really don't.
