His hooves struck the firm sidewalk with the classic clip-clop. Around him, ponies, more ponies than he usually ever had to deal with in a given day. He wasn't home anymore.
Good. The city held many promises. Independence, freedom from expectations. He was his own pony, and he could grasp life between his own two hooves. It also had a basic requirement. A pony did not live in the city off good intentions alone. He needed a place to live, and more bits than the pittance he had with him.
There were many jobs to choose from, his eyes scanning about for help wanted signs. But there were a few that were always available, and tended to be more interested in the kind of pony that they got, rather than the qualifications of the pony.
His stomach rumbled quietly, voicing its opinion on the matter. He glanced to the left, seeing he was passing a diner of some sort. There, in the window, was a Help Wanted sign propped up against the glass from the inside. "Two birds," he chuckled to himself as he ascended the few cement steps to the glass door. He grabbed the handle in his teeth and drew it open. "Hey there."
A dull green pony with her purple hair done up in an impressive bun turned towards the sound of an incoming customer. "Well hey yahself," she greeted with a smile, her red glasses leaning a bit off balance. "Go right ahead and perk yourself wherever." She waved wildly at a selection of open booths.
"Actually, ya see." He stepped inside enough for the door to close behind him. "About the sign ya got there."
"Oh, that?" She glanced at it. "Don't you worry a thing 'bout that. We got plenty enough help to get ya a bite, sugar."
He looked her over, deciding quickly she was a nice, if busy, mare that was trying to tend to her job. "Ah was more thinkin' ta join ya, though a bite sounds good too."
"Well, park your ass." She pointed to a booth. "Be right with ya in a sec, got customers to wrangle." She turned to a pony waving a hoof. "I can see ya! A'ight?" She grabbed a carafe of coffee in her teeth on the way, bringing it over to the waiting customer.
He settled into the booth and reached for the menu, sliding it along the table instead of picking it up and wandering his eyes over it when not sneaking peeks at his maybe-future-coworker... or boss? She had a hair net on her tail, sensible. It was morning, midmorning. There were about six ponies in there besides himself as customers. Not a huge rush, there were still booths available, but there was only one waitress and she was busily bouncing from one to the next, when not blowing huge bubbles out of her gum.
"So, what'll ya have?" It had become his turn all too suddenly. "And do ya have the bits, sugar? We ain't runnin' on nice thoughts."
"Ah can pay fer it," he assured, tapping the menu. "One hayburger."
"Fries?" She raised a brow. "Ain't many ask fer a burger, no fries."
"Uh... sure, yeah, gimmie that." And off she went.
"One patty and crispies!" she called as she went, only to return with a plate in her mouth, on the plate was a glass and a carafe. She set the glass down and soon had it full of water. "Now, why don't you go an' regale me with your qualifiers. You work in food service before?"
"Know how to pay attention. Know how to follow instructions." He tapped his hooves with each qualifier. "Know how to keep an eye on trouble, an' ah don't scare easy."
She leaned in a little, looking him over from the top to the bottom. "All good an' everythin' but ain't specific ta food none."
"Work is work," he argued. "Know how to cook." Sure, he'd usually cooked for himself or a friend or two, not in any restaurant setting.
She raised a hoof to his lips, silencing him. "Now look here. The way I see it, you're a lucky pony." Though he didn't speak, the question was clear in the air. She smirked a little. "We really need the help. You say you can listen?" She lowered her hoof. "Listen to what I'm tellin' ya?"
"Already listenin'," he assured with a soft chuckle, a smile of his own revealed. "What'ya need first?"
"Fer you to eat what ya done ordered, pay fer it, then we talk." She turned and trotted away towards the next customer, leaving him there to consider what trouble he had gotten himself into.
In not too long, a plate slid in front of him, a steaming-hot burger and sizzling fries awaiting his enjoyment. He chomped on them gratefully and reached into a pocket, a coin coming out attached to it that he slapped on the table, which vanished the next time she wandered past, replaced with a few smaller coins, change. He pushed away his emptied plate, sliding some of the coins his way but leaving something of a tip.
Then there wasn't much more to do but wait, so he did that, watching ponies go trotting past and sipping his water. At least he had a job, he figured. Not a bad start to things!
"To be truthful." There she was, appearing with no sound of her approach, as if her hooves were wrapped in soft foam instead of capped with hard hooves. "I figured the odds were an even split-like. You had nothin' and I woulda chased ya out, that is." She inclined an ear at him. "Wouldn't be too mad. As bums go, yer polite at least, sugar. Still, glad it didn't shake out that way none."
He thrust a hoof towards her. "Well, ain't like takin' what ain't mine. Name's Thanks. Thanks Stallion."
She snorted at that. "Well, ya fit yer name jus' fine. Now, get up. Unless ya got somethin' better to do, which I'm gonna guess ya don't, we can start a shift." She led him behind the counter and began dressing him, getting a shirt over his front and fetching a name tag, jotting his name and attaching it to him. "Regulations." A new hairnet came out. "Get it on, just like mine."
Soon he had it wrapped around his tail, keeping the hair tightly bound in a ball. "Alright, ready."
"Not yet yer not," she accused with a smirk. "But maybe you will be after I'm done with ya." And the instruction began. At first he had to shadow her, watching how she handled things, learning what was allowed and what wasn't, and the general flow of things. By the second hour, she had set him loose to start taking orders and serving up. "Don't ferget to smile, even when you don't feel like. People ain't comin' here to see ya scowl at 'em."
"Right right." He grabbed a platter with two plates of tasty food he wasn't allowed to eat. He made a silent resolution to get something before he left for the day. "Comin'." He hurried to the waiting customers and got right to things. By the end of the shift, he was helping clean and greeting customers coming through the door. True to his word, he had listened, and he didn't slack, so when she hung up her own apron, she was smiling as she turned to him.
"Well, my shift's up." She shook off her hairnet and caught it before it hit the ground. "The next crew's already here." She pointed to the next waiter that was already working. "If you want to finish your eight hours with him, be my guest. You seem alright. Hey, Order!" The newly arrived waiter looked over. "When Thanks here signs out, see he gets paid for today, special exception."
Order Up saluted before resuming his diligent work. She chuckled softly. "He's a good boy and I'm not dragging it." She raised a brow at him. "If y'ain't scared away, come back tomorrow evening, start at six and work from there. You alright with that shift?"
"Any shift's a shift," he agreed, just to be thumped in the chest.
"Good answer." She turned and trotted off for the exit. "See you tomorrow."
Thanks got back to things, but the mood of the place started to shift. The dinner crowd came and left, a hectic time where there was no moment to breathe, just rushing from booth to booth to keep things from overflowing.
"Thanks," gusted out Order, leaning against a counter. The dinner rush had ended. "I would have had to take care of that myself." He smiled a little, fatigue clear under his eyes. "I've done it before, not fun." He grabbed a rag in his magic, wiping down the counter he was next to. "Welcome to the team. When'd you start?"
Thanks turned his eyes to the clock against the wall. "Uh, hmmm, 'bout noon?"
"You worked through the lunch and dinner crowd, on your first day?" He cocked a brow. "It is your first day, right? Ain't seen yer mug around here before."
"First day," Thanks agreed.
"Well, grats, also, you're going into overtime, so go home." He pointed past Thanks to the door. "Still, thanks, oh!" He went to the register and pulled a lever, causing it to swing open. "Payday. It's normally every other week, but she said you get one early." Soon he had counted out bits and made a note of what the bits were going for, closing it back up. "Here ya go."
"Well, shoot, right kind of her." He trotted up and carefully scooped up his earnings. "That'll help smooth things over. Speakin' of that." He started undressing, preparing to be off-duty. "Lookin' fer a place, got any tips?"
"Sure." He trotted to the door and grabbed a folded map, bringing it over. "Right here." He pointed. "Plenty of apartments that way, usually got spots. Just walk safe, ain't smart to be walkin' late at night some places 'round there. Now, not gon' hold you, better get back to work." Order went to see to the few customers left, his shift not complete.
That left Thanks to exit the building into the brisk air of the evening. He took a left and started meandering as the map had suggested, weaving through the streets.
"Wrong turn?" asked a pony perched on a stool, watching him. "Sucks fer you."
Another pony stepped out behind Thanks. "Right bad luck. No reason to make me pop off. Just drop your bits and get on wit' it."
"Don't like fightin' none." Thanks turned and backed, putting both ponies in his field of view. "But ah can, and ah will."
"Ooo, scary," taunted the pony on the stoop as he stood up. "Little country pony's ready for a scrap."
"Just put the coins down," suggested the one from behind. "Way easier."
But easy was not always the way Thanks preferred it. He waited for them to close, only striking after they had. He ducked and bobbed, taking their hits, but never directly, and refusing to show much in the way of pain. He lashed out a hoof at the stoop-pony who had thought to sneak up behind and the loud crack was just the prelude to the wail of the pony.
"Shit, you alright?" asked his friend, abandoning the fight a moment. "Rotten piece of garbage, what'd you do?"
"Defended myself," calmly argued Thanks, turning to resume his walk. They didn't press the fight, already having proven he was not worth the trouble.
Of the apartments that came into view, one of them stood out. Its lights were on, its 'Available' sign was in clear view, and the door to the office was open, with a pony watching TV inside, waiting to be bothered. He accelerated his steps towards that pony and the potential shelter they represented.