Joe Wheeler (papertigerboy) wrote in genome_backsl, @ 2012-07-12 20:01:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | joe wheeler, july 2012, laney riley |
Who: Laney & Joe
What: The fateful day that Joe learns that beer needn't be hard to access.
Where: JJ's bar
When: November 16th, 2044
Rating: Medium-ish for underage drinking, smoking cigarettes, language
Joe zips up his hoodie and pushes his way out of the bar, leaving the gentle din of clinking glasses and laughter. In hindsight, it was pretty nice of that guy JJ to give him a job at, of all places, his bar. Seeing as that he’s underage and all, it's actually kind of a risky thing for JJ to have hired him last week, a real gamble – not because alcohol is served in Joe’s current work environment, which is illegal for him to consume, but that the atmosphere gets him feeling drunk enough he'll probably trip over his own two feet one of these days and drop a bunch of glasses on the floor. The odds of that happening only skyrocket while he’s ogling that sexy blond bartender yonder, too.
Risky, indeed.
It wasn’t like he was serving martinis or anything – plus, his parents would be gladder to know that he was here, rolling in stacks of light beer from a truck and commonly being mistaken as a girl with his long hair, than partying with some douchenozzles in some hipster basement rave. As long as Grace and Pop knew that he’d really lucked out with a new job, just a new job, then it was a-okay. Why worry them with the details?
Outside of the bar, it’s easy for him to just recollect his thoughts. The air’s cold, making his nose red, and he’s wishing he could have something warm, even sangria for fuck’s sake. He’s got his fingerless gloves on, his hands a little chapped from washing up, and pats his jacket down with a sigh.
After locating his carton, he shakes out a smoke. Joe lights it after a few flicks, mumbling about dog food and groceries. He manages to startle a couple that’s hailing a cab nearby, walking together fresh out of the bar. Their worried eyes flicker back to him in a double-take, gauging whether or not he’s a homeless youth. He gives them a big smile, stuffing his hands deep in his jean pockets.
They hurriedly get in the taxi and Joe exhales the smoke through his nose, holding the cigarette between two fingers as he sits on the step outside, groaning as he settles himself down. He watches people pass, watches the smoke curl up from his cigarette.
It gets boring after the fifth breath, so he rolls his neck with a crack and checks his tiny phone’s clock for no reason at all, really. Maybe just so he looks like he's actually got more than a smoke break to look forward to.