It felt like he had just closed his eyes when the loud chirping of his cell phone work him up. Sanji groaned. Half-tempted to let it ring. But the restaurant had a few new people, and if they skipped out – again – Sanji would be the one they called. So he blindly grabbed the phone and answered with a grunt.
"What the fuck were you thinking, Lola? I'm not letting you set me up for another blind date – he never looked up from my tits, said multiple times tattoos were trashy, and implied that climatology was a 'chick' science. I don't know where you found him, but send him back, okay?"
The ranting female voice wasn't one he recognized, and certainly not one from the restaurant. But Sanji was barely awake enough to form a coherent reply, and just barely managed to mumble. "Sounds like a real bastard."
There was a beat of silence on the other end before the voice laughed, and that was the sound that woke him. "That's the truth, and you're not Lola."
"No, Miss," he responded, sitting up and rubbing his face. "I'm Sanji."
"Nice to meet you, Sanji – though it sounds like I woke you up. I'm Nami."