She's gonna be late. She hates this, hates risking the job she just got, because yeah, maybe she hates the job, too, but she has to bring in money somehow, even without the vampire debt collectors that are apparently going to be part of the equation now. Cashiering is better than some things. At least you get a paycheck of any kind at the end of the month. She pulls on her clothes, tries brushing her hair for three seconds before realizing that she doesn't have time, pulls the tangled mess back into a ponytail, yells to her cousin that the kitchen sink is broken and that if she needs water for cooking she can get it from the bathroom, tugs on her sneakers, and blearily heads out the door.
She's... in a bar. Where the hallway to the rest of the world is supposed to be.
Definite magic nonsense. Possibly kidnapping magic nonsense? She's really unclear on why anyone would want to kidnap her, but - well. She clutches her purse tighter and tentatively looks around.