Log: Lizzie K / Dallas E Who: Lizzie and Dallas When:Backdate to forever ago Where: Vegas Rating: There be strong language here!
She was just as fucking nutty as the girl posting her portrait on the journals, Dallas figured. At least she had the sense to force them into meeting somewhere very fucking public, in case "Lizzie" turned out to be a creepy old fucking man who was posting a picture of his daughter or his daughter's friend. If that was the case, she was getting the tire iron out of her trunk and breaking some kneecaps, cause fuck no.
She turned into the lot nearest the burger truck with a muffled pinch of rubber on asphalt -- took the turn too fast, whoops -- and slammed into parking space between some big white SUV and some little electric car. Keys went into the front pocket of her jeans, money in the opposite one, drivers license secure in her back pocket. Purses inhibited her hands, unless she had one of those huge bags that she could hide a fucking cinder block in -- which really might not be such a bad idea when going to meet a stranger from the damn journals, but -- public.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder -- brunette for winter, she'd go back to blond in the spring -- she went striding across the lot, boot heels crunching across the lot as she glanced around in search of better-be-a-girl Lizzie.
She’d told Jonathan that she wasn’t as directionally challenged as she used to be and that was, more or less, right. While living in Chicago, she’d learned how to read bus schedules until she was practically a pro, but that didn’t stop her from studying the Vegas schedules for a day when she initially arrived. After figuring out the best one to take to get to this place this Dallas person had mentioned, she grabbed her bag (containing the ultra-cool new sketchbook, her regular one, some pencils, chalk, and one gummy eraser nearly gone, her wallet, and her phone), Lizzie set out to head to lunch.
She wasn’t nearly as naive as she generally came across, but was okay with people thinking she was. She liked it when she was underestimated, because then she could surprise people. Which was why when she reached the address she’d been told, Lizzie took care to sit on a very public bench where she could see anyone approaching - and made another mental note to look into self defense classes of some kind. If this place was anything like Chicago, she’d probably want them.
While she waited, she tugged out one of the sketchbooks and flipped to the back, then pulled a pencil out as well. Lizzie studied her surroundings for a minute, then finally landed her gaze on a father with his daughter in one arm and his son tugging at his other hand. Smiling a little, she began a quick sketch of the three, her hand flying across the paper as she strove to get in all the details before they moved out of sight.
It took her a few minutes to spot her, but yeah, there was the girl. Dallas spent another minute just watching, making sure there weren't any obvious creepers around before she walked over, one leg swinging over the back of the bench. The other followed as she perched her butt on the narrow back and peered over the girl's shoulder. "I can't draw for shit," she said with a bit of a laugh.
But this girl could. She'd seen that on the journals and could see it now, again, in the sketch of the father with two children. "I can make a mean stick figure though. Eyes, mouth, sometimes even a nose," she nodded and grinned, elbows settling on her knees. "But fuck if I can do better than that. I'm better with numbers." Those she could work like Michelangelo on the Sistine Chapel. "Lizzie, right? I'm Dallas." No sweet Texas twang in sight, only the slow draw of New York City syllables.
Hazel eyes had flickered over the instant the leg appeared next to her, then shifted back to the family, wanting to get in one last detail on the sketch she was doing. By the time they had turned the corner, Lizzie was mostly satisfied and raised her head, then smiled over at the girl next to her. “I’m the opposite. I’ve never been a numbers person - we don’t really get along too well, I guess.” Nodding at the question, Lizzie dropped the pencil back into her bag and held out her hand while offering a bright smile.
“Nice to meet you Dallas. Thanks for joining me out here. Like I said, I just moved here so I don’t know where pretty much anything is, except the hospital where my brother works.”
"You're not the only one." She'd only just gotten out here herself, but she wasn't worried about finding things. Getting lost was half the fun and she had a tendency to find the best little shops when she wasn't looking for them. Not everyone felt the same though and if she was really looking for something in particular, Google was always there.
"They had this place listed on one of those best of Vegas websites or whatever." Always useful, those things. "And it's a burger with an egg on top. The only way they were going to make that any fuckin' better was to add bacon to it." No blowfish though. As much as she was up for trying new things, she wanted to save the things that could kill her for actual restaurants instead of food served out of trucks.
“Where did you live before here?” She studied Dallas curiously as she slowly closed her sketchbook, though a part of her itched to get her pencil back out and start drawing the other young woman. She had an inner strength and humor that Lizzie wanted to capture on paper, but she’d learned years ago that people didn’t like you drawing them without asking permission, first. At least in front of them. She could always sketch her later.
She glanced over at the food truck with interest, then smiled a little. “A burger with an egg on top? That’s definitely not something I’ve had before.” Standing and slinging her bag back over her shoulders, she nodded in the direction of the food. “Ready whenever you are.”
"New York, SoCal," she said easily, suspicions temporarily alleviated by the fact that girlfriend was very much not some old creeper. "Never lived in Texas though." Because that question inevitably came up whenever she happened to mention her name and always, it was 'nope, never been to Texas' because telling people that the only time she'd ever been there was when she was conceived was just weird.
She slid forward, butt missing the seat of the bench entirely as she landed on her feet, no bag in tow. "Where'd you come from, anyway? Since we're sharing," she added, hands held loose at her sides as she started walking towards the truck that even now had a small line where people were waiting.
“Chicago most recently. Seemed like a really good time to move,” Lizzie said, keeping her own voice just as light as she stood and followed Dallas. When they got in the line, she studied the menu board for a minute, then looked over at the other girl, glad that she seemed a lot more friendlier in person than she had online. “And by moving, I missed the worst of that awful polar vortex weather stuff, too. No subzero temperatures this year, anyway.”
"Talk about the shit I don't miss. The cold, the snow that came down faster than it could be fucking plowed," she let out a dramatic sigh, her eyes rolling. "SoCal had the best weather, but the people were shit." Some of them were okay, but most of them got on her nerves and she was all too happy to say goodbye to them. "Snow's good, like, once a year. Give me one good snowfall and I'm happy. Give me five half assed ones where the snow is black by the end of the day and I know I'm just being fucked with. Don't even get me started on that polar vortex shit. There's a point where you just need to stop putting a number on it because it doesn't matter if it's negative twenty or negative thirty, it's fucking cold outside and you need to keep your ass indoors where it's warm." Opinions: she had them.
Lizzie couldn't help but grin as she listened to Dallas talk. It was definitely something different, and it took her a moment to catch up with the conversation. "I like snow a couple times a year - the kind you can make snowmen in, you know? But not the kind that makes drifts that are taller than me. And you're right about the color...city snow can turn so gross so fast." Making a face, she shook her head and glanced back to the truck as the line started to move.
"So I'm guessing you like the sunny weather here? I can't wait - it may be super hot, but I'm still looking forward to it. No wind and rain and all that gray that Chicago seemed to be so often."
"See, you need a yard to make a snowman in, and I rarely had one of those." Of course, there were plenty of parks in NY, but it wasn't the same as having a snowman all to herself. Besides, she knew plenty of neighborhood boys that had made it their life's mission to knock the heads off of any snowman they encountered while in the park. And yeah, she might have joined them a time or two (or three) before she found something better to do.
That something better had to do with cars and trying to race in the snow was just asking for even more trouble than it was worth. "I'd rather have somewhere warm. SoCal had great weather though." She took a step forward as the line continued to move. "We didn't have all that wind that I heard Chicago has," she added with a little shake of her head, her nose scrunching up. "That'd be fucking impossible with the snow."
“I did back home, but not in Chicago. My girlfriend and I had an apartment. A loft,” she said it absently as she glanced around. “And anyway, it was usually too cold to go outside to find a place to do something like that.” Pushing a few brown strands back from her eyes, Lizzie looked back over at Dallas who, in her mind anyway, was her new friend.
Nodding at her words about the nicer weather, she gave a shrug. “The wind was the worst, but you sort of get used to it after a couple months. Not that I liked it. I pretty much just put up with it.” By now, they were finally reaching the window and the brunette gave the boy behind the counter a bright smile, then placed her order for the egg-burger that Dallas had mentioned, a double order of fries, and a large cherry soda. As she pulled out her wallet, she glanced back over at Dallas. “I can cover yours, if you want. It’s only fair since you came out to meet me.”
A little part of her thought she should object, after all, she could cover her own shit and she wanted to, but a larger part of her, the one that had her belly rumbling at the smells coming out of the truck said free fucking food. That was not something to be turned down. "Yeah," Dallas said, a smile starting to bloom. "Next one's on me." She needed friends around here, and preferably at least one that wasn't going to get her ass arrested.
And then proceeded to order the same egg-burger thing, sans blowfish cause that was just fucking weird, fries, and one of those neon yellow-green drinks that turned piss fluorescent and had almost as much caffeine and sugar as it did dye. Good stuff. Like NOS for her. "Thanks, by the way." Somewhere, apparently, she had manners, like coins that had fallen down between seat cushions. Every once in a while, you pulled a quarter out.
Smiling when her offer was accepted, Lizzie nodded. “Deal,” she told Dallas happily, pulling several bills out of the wallet and passing them over before taking her drink and moving to the side so the next people in line could order while their food was being made. Leaning against the truck, Lizzie took a long drink from her soda, then looked at Dallas.
“So what do you do for fun around here? Do you live nearby? Do you have a job?” She may be asking a lot at once, but she honestly didn’t see a problem with getting to know her new friend.
Dallas gave her a look, one of those 'what planet are you from?' looks at the barrage of questions before softening it up with a grin. "I have no fuckin' clue." She was as new as Lizzie was, still learning her way around the city, what places to go to and which ones to avoid.
"I don't live that far from here, in a shitty little apartment, but whatever. It's got a roof and it doesn't have any fuckin' roaches." It wasn't much beyond that, but she planned only on being there long enough to sleep and occasionally eat. "And sorta." Racing cars wasn't really a job, more of a really intense hobby. "I'm a bookie." And in Nevada, she was fucking legal too. "Sometimes I work at garages," she added with a little shrug of her shoulders. "Whatever. You?"
“I’m on the campus right now, though I’m hoping to get a place sometime soon.” Lizzie studied the other people in line even as she replied to Dallas, then looked back over to the other young woman. “That sounds pretty cool - a lot of people around here do that, right? And garages...if I ever get a car, I’ll bring it to you.” At the question, Lizzie shrugged.
“I work part time as an intern at the college radio station - but I don’t do much besides get coffee and organize the music, so I get to spend a lot of time on my art.” As their order came up, Lizzie grabbed her food, waited for Dallas to get hers, and started for a nearby bench. This was definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship, in her opinion.