Mike Lawson, a retired military veteran and a werewolf; he was comforting Mindy a were-doberman at her small bungalow. A single floor dwelling with a crawlspace; complete with a kitchen that opens into the living room, Mike couldn’t see the rest as the short hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom featured closed doors to both rooms. Both Mike and Mindy originally planned to continue their fun from the Were Club at her house; but after both revealing how their spouses died; neither was interested in going furry.
“Any children,” Mike asks as he sips his tea.
“No,” Mindy sighed; “Robert and I wanted to, but with our busy schedules we couldn’t find the time.”
“What was your husband’s profession,” Mike curious.
“He was a welder for the oil sands project up by Fort McMurray in Alberta, Mindy commented; “It was good money despite the crazy schedule he had. It paid for this small house.”
“Crazy schedule,” Mike interested.
“two months there at the camps and then two months off,” Mindy sighing; “When he was here we had a hell of time,” Mindy smiling. “If you don’t mind my asking, what did you wife do?”
“She was a homemaker,” Mike answered; “but she also did volunteer work for the local church when I finally retired and stayed in Seattle.”
“Ok,” Mindy smiling; “how old are you?”
“Over a hundred fifty years,” Mike sighing; “before the internet took off; it was far easier for a were to change their name and social security after faking their death.”
“Nowadays you got to save up big,” Mindy comments; “It’s hard to collect social security or a pension when you hit ninety and still look thirty to forty years old.”
Mike laughs, “Isn’t that the truth.”
******
Meanwhile after Eric, Frieda and Spencer left Awareness with their clothing purchases; they noticed a place call Grrrrrrr. Curious they entered in as Martha Anderson stashed their purchases in the car to shortly join them.
“I don’t think I’ve seen this place before,” Frieda comments as they entered.
“We just opened last week,” the attendant speaking; “Welcome to Grrrrrrr.” The attendant growling the name indicating he is a were as well as the three teenagers that just arrived. “We are a restaurant that caters to weres. There are a few ground rules before entering beyond these red doors. First rule, you dine in your fursona. Second rule, no sex. And thirdly we don’t serve alcohol. But since you three are minors, that last rule is moot.”
“What happens when a non were walks in the door,” Eric curious.
“Then I tell them it’s a private club,” the attendant answers; "and ask that they leave."
Eric, Frieda and Spencer look at each other; it being around lunch time, all three were feeling hungry. Intrigued at what the restaurant has to offer; Frieda is the first to speak, “Table for three then.”
“Four;” Eric is adding, “your forgetting my mom.”
“Oh that’s right,” Frieda realizing as Martha walks in the door.
“Mom this place is a restaurant,” Eric grinning; “a furry restaurant.”
“A furry restaurant,” Martha sounding confused; “I’m not getting it.”
“In order to dine her,” Spencer removing her clothes and starting to shift; “you have to be in your fursona.”
“Hence the blacked out windows and second set of doors,” The attendant adding.
Frieda and Eric already undressed and in their were-panther Fursonas; Leaving Martha the only one not shifted. Already curious and feeling hungry; she shucks off her clothes and assumes her were-vixen fursona. The attendant collecting their clothing but handing them their phones wallets and purses; he gives them a ticket for their checked clothes and escorts them in side.
“Welcome to Grrrrrrr,” The attendant states, “A waiter will be by to seat you accordingly.” He closes the door; just as a werewolf greats them
“Hello, table for four? Please follow me.” Escorting the party to their seats; “our set meal today is a three course meal starting with cream of leek and fennel soup, followed by a mushroom stuffed fillet mignon with a sweet potato and cauliflower mash.“ The werewolf waiter smiling; “the dessert is a surprise.”
“Set meal,” Eric looking confused as no menus was given.
“Ahh, the attendant failed to note that in the introduction again,” the waiter commenting; “While most restaurants feel to offer multiple selections, here at Grrrrrrr we feel it’s best for all to be served the same meal so as to avoid conflicting food smells; us weres having heightened sense and all that. Can I start you with something to drink as you wait for your meal?”
“Any raspberry lemonade available,” Spencer asking.
“Certainly,” answering the waiter, “all four?”
Everyone nods and the waiter walks off leaving Frieda, Spencer, Eric and Eric’s mother Martha to chat amongst themselves as several other weres sitting at the other tables eat their meals.