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Post by Alex on Apr 1, 2010 21:16:12 GMT -5
Matt listened rather interestedly as Scruffy recounted his experiences from the bar. "Nah, I wasn't the one to do that. We had a guy that'd toss you out if he saw signs of things getting out of hand. I just mixed the drinks," Matt chuckled quietly, trying to imagine the auburn-haired man serving glasses of frothy beverages from behind the counter. He fit pretty well in Matt's mental picture, surprisingly enough. But Matt could also picture him breaking up a fight. The young musician took a break from scanning the ground and shot Scruffy a sly, considering look. "Anything exciting ever happen while you were working? C'mon, it's a bar. There must have been at least SOME interesting parts."
Matt resumed his search for dropped change, feeling more and more like a vagabond with every step. Looking for extra change was so below him- and yet, his eyes lit up when he caught sight of the shine of a dime at the edge of the sidewalk. AHA. Veering towards the coin, Matt nonchalantly prepared himself to scoop it up and continue walking. "Oh, hey," Scruffy suddenly spoke up, causing Matt to become momentarily distracted from his mission to retrieve the coin. "Special half-off discount just for coming along for the walk, kid. Going to work would have been really friggin' boring if you didn't."
"Are you serious?" The musician exclaimed, running a few steps to catch up to the older man. "That's really nice of you. All for just agreeing to walk with you?" Maybe I should be this nice to people more often, Matt thought. ...nah.
OOC|| Dead post died when I forgot how to speak English.
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on Apr 2, 2010 15:19:00 GMT -5
Scruffy realized that as they were walking in the frigid winter weather, they were getting really close to the cafe. The stores around them started to look really familiar, and just up ahead, he could see the landmark sign for his workplace. Shouldn't be long now, he mused as he picked up his pace just a little, mostly out of desire to get away from the cold. He also didn't want to be late, since he wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had left he apartment.
"Anything exciting ever happen while you were working? C'mon, it's a bar. There must have been at least SOME interesting parts." Scruffy's head turned a bit when he heard Matt speak, though he didn't quite catch the expression on the younger man's face. Instead, he smirked to himself and began recalling some of the events in his past career. "Well, unless you count drunken sing-alongs as interesting, there were only a few things that stood out. Like this one lady, who after a few beers began to think she was a stripper. We didn't figure out what she was doing until she was already on the table." Sighing, the auburn haired man pushed his fingers through his long bangs. Clearly, the memory irritated him. "That was one of the more awkward things that happened."
Much to Scruffy's somewhat smug delight, the younger man behind him reacted well to the offer. "Are you serious? That's really nice of you. All for just agreeing to walk with you?" Scruffy let out a friendly laugh, then slowed down as they reached the door of the coffee shop. "It's nothing, kid," he said with a smile, finally turning around so he could see the darker-haired man's face. Anyway, we're hear, so," He reached for the door's handle and, with the jingling of bells, pulled it open, "after you."
((Don't worry, my dead post can join your dead post in Post Heaven.))
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Post by Alex on Apr 3, 2010 0:40:52 GMT -5
" Well, unless you count drunken sing-alongs as interesting, there were only a few things that stood out. Like this one lady, who after a few beers began to think she was a stripper. We didn't figure out what she was doing until she was already on the table." Matt grinned at the thought, wondering why Scruffy sighed after retelling the tale. Was it really not that funny to him? " That was one of the more awkward things that happened," the older man clarified, as if reading Matt's thoughts. The latter shrugged. "Sounds like one helluva job to me," he laughed. "awkward parts and all." He glanced up as they approached the coffee shop, where a sign out front advertised the business. Matt's stride quickened in anticipation of the warm relief from the biting weather, as well as the price discount he'd receive for a morning cup of regular. He seriously couldn't get over the fact that Scruffy, a stranger not even fifteen minutes ago, would be kind enough to offer than kind of a deal. Matt allowed himself a small, genuine smile. "Thanks," he mentioned as they reached the door. " It's nothing, kid," the auburn-haired man replied, pulling open the glass door of the cafe to a flurry of chiming bells. " After you." Matt laughed, slipping inside and waiting just beyond the door in the warmth of the heated room for Scruffy to enter. He could smell the lingering traces of coffee, some pastries, and possibly even soups that might be sold on the menu for breakfast or lunch. He turned to face the rest of the room, taking in the homey feel that the place had about it. It seemed cheery and inviting; a welcome change after the bitter cold weather outside. "Seems like a nice place," Matt commented, taking another whiff of the smells. "Is it usually crowded here in the mornings?"
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on Apr 3, 2010 1:27:03 GMT -5
"Sounds like one helluva job to me," the man behind Scruffy remarked, laughing a bit, "awkward parts and all." The barista smiled and nodded briefly in response. It had been a great job, and Scruffy was sad to leave the career, but practicality came first. Bar tending in Shelpey wouldn't have been very safe or profitable, judging by the state of the bars in the city, and he was surprisingly happy with his new job. At least people aren't singing anymore, he thought bemusedly as they finished up their trek.
"Seems like a nice place," Matt said upon entering the pleasant smelling shop. Scruffy had to agree, as he said the exact same thing when he first showed up for the job; the walls were an even light brown, with amber lights hanging over each table. All the counters and table tops were a dark brown, almost red color, contrasting the tan floor tiles. Everything was neat and clean inside the small cafe, setting up for an organized, calming feel. Scruffy had been impressed and pleased with it since the start of his barista career, and the feeling had carried over through all his work days. "Yeah, it really is," he said fondly, stripping himself of his heavy black coat. "Gimme a second, I need to put this in the back."
Briefly occupied in the back as he stored his winter gear in his locker, Scruffy also pulled out the customary apron. Like the motif of the cafe, it was a rich, yet light brown, with the coffee shop's logo on the front. Tying it on in a practiced movement, the auburn-haired man stepped back out front and behind the counter.
"Is it usually crowded here in the mornings?" asked Matt, seemingly friendlier now that he was indoors. The warmth of the cafe had a positive effect on both of them, thawing out their frozen faces and making them comfortable. Scruffy also noticed with very vague interest that the other man was sniffing slightly at the air, already laced with the coffee's scent. The barista couldn't blame him - even after spending all day working with the stuff, it was hard to get tired of it. "Like you wouldn't believe," Scruffy replied, rolling his eyes. "Rush hour starts about thirty minutes after we open, and it's a complete nightmare."
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Post by Alex on Apr 3, 2010 2:32:12 GMT -5
Matt admired the spacious shop as Scruffy excused himself to go to the back for a moment. Wandering around the perimeter of the area, he took in the simple but elegant taste of the decor, liking the cozy feel that the coffee shop had that cold morning. It seemed like a place that maybe he'd like to come back to visit. He could stop by for breakfast in the mornings, at least until his coffeemaker started working again. Matt glanced up as Scruffy returned from the back room, having traded his black jacket for the store's counter apron, which matched the rest of the color scheme.
Matt nodded at the response to his inquiry about the number of customers. "Rush hour starts about thirty minutes after we open, and it's a complete nightmare." Thirty minutes, huh? It was pretty easy for him to get here before the rush hour pack, it seemed. He didn't live so far away that getting here would be too out of the way. The prices seemed decent, even without the super-awesome-amazing discount that he was rewarded for talking to strangers. Matt meandered back over to the counter and leaned against it, glancing out the windows.
"I think it'd be nice to come here in the mornings. At least, before everyone else crowds in. It'd be a much better way to wake up, rather than hearing the neighbors yell and shout about how they can't find their newspaper, or their dentures were stolen sometime during the night." He laughed, digging in his coat pocket for his pick-pocketed dollar bill. Fishing it out, he uncrinkled the paper and laid it on the tabletop.
"I think this should cover the cost of a discounted coffee? And you can keep the change: it's the least I can do."
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on Apr 3, 2010 3:41:19 GMT -5
"I think it'd be nice to come here in the mornings. At least, before everyone else crowds in. It'd be a much better way to wake up, rather than hearing the neighbors yell and shout about how they can't find their newspaper, or their dentures were stolen sometime during the night." Scruffy had to laugh when Matt began describing his morning routine. From the sound of it, the other man's mornings seemed kind of crappy, and the friendlier part of Scruffy was glad that he could help brighten up this particular day for Matt.
"Newspapers and dentures, huh? Yeesh. Do you live in a neighborhood with a bunch of old people?" Scruffy asked casually, his curiosity somewhat piqued. The subject matter reminded him of his own age - twenty seven, and certainly not getting any younger - but he silently thanked whatever gods or goddesses that existed that he wasn't anywhere near the dentures point yet. He was still healthy, and strong, and he preferred to stay that way for a while yet.
Just then, the younger man pulled out a rather rough dollar bill and asked for a cup of coffee. He even offered to let the barista keep the change. "Really? Thanks, boss," he said, friendly smirk fully in place. He rang up the small order, and immediately set about starting up the machines. The aroma of coffee was gradually getting stronger, mixed with the sweet smell of some of the creams and icings they used on the morning pastries. Yet another scent that Scruffy would never get tired of.
Soon, the cup Matt had ordered was done, and the ex-bartender placed the steaming hot mug down in front of the other man.
((SHORT POST IS SHORT WATCH ME TYPE TO ADD WORDS TO MY WORD COUNTER.))
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Post by Alex on Apr 3, 2010 4:57:13 GMT -5
"Newspapers and dentures, huh? Yeesh. Do you live in a neighborhood with a bunch of old people?" The older man asked lightly.
"Yes." Was the reply. "Well, not a neighborhood, exactly. My apartment has pretty much all...'senior citizens.' It drives me crazy sometimes." He shook his head, laughing to himself. He definitely had his share of stories to tell about the apartment building. Maybe in some ways he could rival Scruffy's bar stories, although he was sure bar stories were far more interesting than stories about an old lady losing her crochet needle, or an elderly man having to take the stairs because the elevator was broken.
Scruffy picked up the crumpled dollar off the table and chinged it into the cash register. "Really? Thanks, boss," the older man replied with a friendly smirk as Matt mentioned that he could keep the change, causing the musician to chuckle. He watched Scruffy go about preparing the coffeemakers and other such machines behind the counter, interested in the different steps that seem to be involved. When the cup was placed on the counter in front of him, Matt nodded his appreciation and blew gingerly on the hot beverage, waiting for it to cool, all the while comparing his dingy, broken coffeemaker at home to the heavy-duty ones behind the counter. What he wouldn't do to get one of those.
OOC|| Yes I DID use "ching" as a verb.
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on Apr 3, 2010 5:26:17 GMT -5
Almost immediately after Scruffy's conversational question, Matt responded with a quick, positive response. "Well, not a neighborhood, exactly," he said, reflecting on his speedy answer. "My apartment has pretty much all...'senior citizens.' It drives me crazy sometimes." Scruffy let out a friendly chuckle, pushing the ponytail on his shoulder onto his back. The younger man lived in an apartment too, huh? The ex-bartender vaguely wondered if they lived nearby each other, but highly doubted it; his apartment complex was mostly for the middle aged and single variety, though it hurt to think of himself even remotely near that label. He was still in his twenties, for crying out loud! "I'd imagine," he replied, a genuine smile quirking his lips.
While the younger man sat down and attempted to cool his hot beverage, Scruffy absently gazed out the windows. Outside, the ocean waves splashed violently against the darkened piers and posts, while the wind balefully howled. People were scurrying to get out of the harsh gales and severe winter cold, which Scruffy could sympathize with. The frigid weather was exactly what inspired him to expedite his trip to the workplace. Didn't keep me from stopping to speak to him, though, thought the auburn-haired man, casting a glance at the younger male at the counter.
"Say, Matt, I'm not trying to be creepy or anything, but what are you into?" asked the barista curiously, his arms now crossed against his chest in a relaxed, casual position. He really was just trying to make small talk, since they'd need to find something to speak eventually. Besides, Matt was the only real friend he had made in the city so far, and he might as well try to get to know something about him. Matt didn't seem to be the type of guy that could be read at a glance.
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Post by Alex on Apr 3, 2010 5:57:44 GMT -5
A moment of companionable silence passed between the two as Matt tentatively cooled off his coffee, stirring the spoon ((I WROTE SPOOK AT FIRST)) occasionally. Scruffy eventually spoke up, breaking the quiet that had fallen upon them.
"Say, Matt, I'm not trying to be creepy or anything, but what are you into?" He asked nonchalantly, leaning casually against the counter with his arms crossed. Matt considered his answer, stirring his spoon ((I DID IT AGAIN)) contemplatively in different directions in order to swirl up the color.
"That's a pretty good question," he replied after a while, raising the cup to his mouth and gingerly taking a sip before setting it back down and impatiently watching the steam rise in curls. "Well, for starters, I'm into music. I go to a music school, so I write some songs and stuff. And play music. And listen to music. You'd think that it sounds great, playing and listening to music to earn grades, but it looses its fun after the first semester or so."
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on Apr 4, 2010 0:01:45 GMT -5
The clinking of metal on glass filled the cafe after Scruffy's conversational question, as Matt began stirring his coffee in contemplation. The younger male's eyes focused intently on the swirling pattern in his piping hot beverage as the spoon traveled around the rim of the mug, and at last, he spoke. "That's a pretty good question," replied Matt, before pausing to take a sip of the coffee. Scruffy waited patiently for the rest of the answer.
"Well, for starters, I'm into music," Matt explained after he finished his sip, eyes now following the whimsical, ever changing shapes of the steam. The whitish vapor rose in puffs and in curls, dancing around the air before finally dissipating into nothingness. "I go to a music school, so I write some songs and stuff. And play music. And listen to music. You'd think that it sounds great, playing and listening to music to earn grades, but it looses its fun after the first semester or so."
Scruffy considered this while busying himself with the normal jobs behind the counter, like laying out mugs and checking the machines. "Doesn't sound too bad, though," he remarked after straightening a few clean mugs that he had just set down. "Sounds a lot better than what I went to college for." The ex-bartender remembered the four years he spent in higher education with a bit of chagrin; the degree he earned in drama didn't help him very much later in life. Scruffy still wasn't entirely sure why he thought it would be a good idea to study theatre as a major, but what was done was done. He made a mistake with choosing his degree, and now he simply wanted to ignore it.
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