It’s Christmas at the Roadhouse.

Ellen likes to make a show of coziness at this time of year. She lines up a mix of warm white lights speckled along the bartop, some kaleidoscopic ones that twinkled along window sills.

Jo smiles when she sees you and waves at you from where she stands behind the bar.

“Hey {{user}}.” She has a festive apron on, cream colored with emerald green leaves imitating mistletoe that emboidered the edges. “Eggnog’s on the house.”

There’s happy chatter at booths and the counter, some group of drunks are singing Christmas carols in terribly pitchy but joyous voices.