The lunch rush landed on the mall food court, filling it with people, shouts of 'Coffee for Tabitha! Tabitha?' and a severe lack of tables to be properly antisocial on.
Despite Louie best efforts to project an aura of 'go away', two office workers sat down at her table, cheerily chatting over their salads. They're frustratingly immune to glares from people wearing hi-vis over a stab vest. (And okay, they're totally allowed to sit at this table, it's not like she actually owns this table. But still. They didn't even ask.)
She does her best to ignore them. She just got off from A Shift-- the sort that makes you question how the general public has managed to keep themselves alive for so long, question what is up with the state of public education and water supplies that so many idiots are running around, along with the standard questioning your faith in humanity. Not to mention this is the first day of her new schedule, with all the fun sleep cycle fuckery that implies. While it is lunch time for normal, daywalking people, it's dinner for her, and she's been up far too long.
Short of it is: It's been a day where she deserves donuts with dangerous amounts of cinnamon for dinner. For lunch. (For dunch.)