[center=Dead Center][h1][Color=MediumPurple] Matina Louise[/color][/h1][/center]

Parking her small, cerulean blue moped in the employee parking space, Matina took off her helmet, using a free hand to shake her hair out, and later, pull it into a low bun before grabbing her apron and pulling it over her head. It was a pastel green with a simple white coffee mug on the front pocket, surrounded by a thin ring of smoke, which she though was pretty cute, one of the reasons she had applied for this job; the theme of the place was asthetically pleasing, which she enjoyed.

Hopping off of her bike, the night air was cool amd breezy as it had already been dark for some time now, considering that it was ten at night. The last of the emplyees from the previous shift were leaving as the young woman approached, giving them a cheerful wave and smile as they passed her, adding a little bounce to her step as she walked in, the door's bell ringing as she entered the brightly lit room, getting a pleasant whiff of cinnamon.

Immediately to her left, the cashier's counter stood, little muffins and other baked goods sat in the display counter underneath, while a newly updated menu sat as the focal point on the wall behind it. Round tables surrounded the area closer to the counter while the larger, rectangular tables basically outlined the further walls, though there was plenty of space between them. The building itself was made out of brick, though there were paintings and other pictures hanging up on the walls with small strings of LED lights shaped like light bulbs outlined the top of them.  

Striding further into the room, Matina made her way behind the counter, stretching as she prepared herself for the night, though as she looked around for the others, she realized she was the first here. 
[Color=MediumPurple]"Ah, I'm first? Niiice,"[/color] she leaned against the counter, feeling quite responsible now that she was actually on time. After a moment, she shook her head, and said to herself, [Color=MediumPurple]" Those hooligans, always late, task task. I should really report them, I'm tired of doing their work. Yes, Mr. Manager? I'd like to report a crime. What's the crime you ask? Well, let me tell you-,"[/color] she laughed at herself as she played out the fake conversation, but she was already growing increasingly bored, and those muffins were looking better and better the more she looked at them.

Shrugging, Matina bent down and grabbed one of the goods, not bothering to lookout for anyone else as she raised it to her mouth. [Color=MediumPurple]"First come, first serve I suppose. I pay taxes, haha,"[/color] she giggled to herself again.