"Well, that's sort of a long commute for anyone". They could all agree.
Georges took a drag of the cool walk-in-draft
"Look man, when we get back, i don't want to hear anything else about how long it took you to get here. Fifteen minutes late is one thing, an hour is another...but you're fucking two hours out, man."
Just then they both heard a crash outside the office.
"Shit, someone dropped their load down the stairs" Duh, George.
Actually he hadn't dropped anything down the stairs but rather he'd thrown some containers down them in a fit.
Jonah stood above the staircase clenching a bloody, apron, rolled hand.
"Call, Frank!" He muttered as the stormed passed the two.
Now the Wedding rehearsal would arrive early (on time). Georges's, late to the show, and it looks like Jonah's just sliced open his left hand.
Cless ran after the wooly chef , but Jonah had already made it halfway down the avenue before his peers could reach the restaurant's front door.
"Cool, fine, great"
"Well, let's crank".