susie locke wants things to go back to normal (temporarily) wrote in mnhttnprjct, @ 2010-07-03 20:23:00 |
|
|||
SUSIE: Within an hour of starting her new job, Susie Locke knew she was going to hate it. The job seemed harmless enough when written down on a piece of paper, but actually working for Ms. Weymouth was an entirely different thing all together. She made Miranda Priestly look like Mother Teresa. However, Susie really needed the job, so she went about her duties without any complaints since jobs in the city where hard to come by, not even when she was referred to by the wrong name. This would explain why at the end of a particularly grueling work day she found herself walking into some random bar in District 0. Looking rather down in the dumps, she carefully crawled her way onto one of the bar stools, taking care to make sure her skirt and blouse didn’t become crumpled. Susie then set her purse on the stool next to her and waited patiently for the bartender to turn around and see her. LUKE: Admittedly, even though it was nothing but a simple grunt job in many ways, Luke had to admit he rather liked this job he had now. As a bartender, Luke was a customer’s alcohol giver, their counselor, and their romantic interest all rolled into one. Whether he wanted to or not. At least when it came to the alarmingly higher number of women hitting on him (and a few men), he could guarantee they would be paying their worth in either tips or drinks, usually in the hope it would lead to something more. Sometimes they were drunken assholes whom he had to resist smashing their faces into the bar mugs and hoping the bouncers were on their feet. Sometimes those who sat down at the counter were just people who happily fell into another niche. As it was a slower night, Luke had time to move among the patrons and strike up conversations with them (the only way to increase tips on those nights). So when a younger woman politely sat at his counter and simply waited for him, he quickly ended his chit chat, walked over and smiled at her. “Evening lassie,” he smiled at her. “What can I get ye tonight?” SUSIE: When she heard his non-American accent, Susie perked up just a bit. She was noticing in this city that some people tended to turn their noses up at her Texan accent, so in theory it was nice to meet someone who in theory wouldn’t do that. Solidarity, only not really. “Lassie?” she asked with her own accent shining through. “I didn’t actually know people used that word in all seriousness.” LUKE: Not that Luke didn't mind New York residents (most of the time), but he tended to feel more at ease with people who were refugees like him, more so if they were foreign nationals, but he couldn't begrudge a nice person who was also displaced from their home. "Well miss," he gave his terrible impression of a southern accent, invisible hat tip and all, "We Irish been using it well before that little furry dog ever showed up on tv." He smiled and paused, pretending to read her inner thoughts. "You look like a lass who wouldn't say no to a nice B-52. Am I wrong?" SUSIE: There was something vaguely comforting knowing the other person got shit like you did. At his terrible Southern accent, Susie made a face that indicated it was just that. Terrible. “Ugh. I would stick to your original accent.” Or any accent other than that one, thank you. “And I don’t know what that is, but as long as it has a lot of alcohol in it, I’m good.” LUKE: He sheepishly grinned. "I figured, judging by yer reaction." Before Susie could take a look at one of the menus stacked neatly every two stools on the counter between the condiments, he was whipping her up one of the aforementioned drinks. A lightly cloudy coffee smelling concoction in a lowball glass was placed in front of her. "So, what ye be showing up at me bar for?" SUSIE: Most of her experience with drinks was either stealing her father’s beer or drinking from a keg back when she attended college. So the menu would have been helpful, but Susie suspected the bartender knew a thing or two about what he was serving to patrons. Before she answered his questioned, she grabbed the glass, sniffed it, and quickly swallowed it with only making a small face. “Ugh. I’m here because I have the job from hell.” Pause. “You know, beyond being a demon or something.” LUKE: He figured most patron's drinks through a number of things: what they were wearing, what they looked like, non verbal cues that hinted to their current mood, all the little things that helped him reach for the right bottle. Granted, when he was originally learning this it was in Belfast where most people's mood was 'Drunk' and 'Angry Drunk.' Either way the correct answer was ale or whiskey. A little surprised someone petite could drink it that fast, he eyed her. "Would ye like another? Hope yer not driving," he warned, noticing (to his relief) there didn't appear to be any keys directly in her hand. "Job from hell? That is too bad. Perhaps ye could work in a wonderful place like this," the last bit clearly said as sarcasm, "though it not be without its perks." As an afterthought he added, "At least a demon gets to torture people." SUSIE: So according to Luke’s theory, she wanted some slightly girlie, slightly strong, and slightly expensive? That pretty much covered it. And don’t judge a book by it’s cover! The shot was sweet enough that she could throw it back with some ease, though the same couldn’t be said about a shot of something more strong and more bitter. “I take the subway home, so sure.” After that, Susie would probably go for something she could actually sip that wouldn’t leave her unable to stumble back to her brother’s apartment. “In that case, my boss might be a demon.” Hah. “At least you get to listen to music here?” she answered as she gestured to a piano that sat on a small raised stage. LUKE: Smiling, he poured her another B-52, but with more ice, a little more Grand Marnier and a touch of regular whiskey to offset the sweetness. "Here. Drink this one a little slower." Casting an eye down at the bar, he quickly attended to a different patron's need for the cheap tasting booze that kept them going through the end of their long day before returning. "All bosses are demons, but don't tell mine I said that. As for music, well," he glanced wistfully at the empty piano while continuing to talk, "when they're playing, it seems to liven the place up just a bit. The piano player is having a small concert on Thursday at the Kickstand, you should check it out." Yes, he pimped out his friends' gigs. Because that was what friends do. Clearly. SUSIE: Hey now. She could hold her liquor, only not really at all considering some of the medicine she was taking. Thanks to that, these three drinks might get her a little tipsier than she had hoped. Susie reached of the drink quickly, though slowed her motions once the concert had been mentioned. “The concert at the Kickstand at nine with only the dollar cover charge?” she asked as her head tilted to one side as she looked at Luke questioningly. LUKE: His left eyebrow raised just a notch. "You know the place?" he asked, mostly with curiosity. The people who tended to frequent the bar were those who could only afford the cheapest shite and didn't really care about the sound of anything. For someone to be aware of the 'scene,' it was enough for him to take note. "Or the musicians?" SUSIE: Sip. “I’ve never been to the place, but I know the people.” Sip. “I mean, my brother and his odd friend are playing there.” Sip. “Actually, Noah is probably way more odd that Max, but I’ve just known Noah way longer.” Before she took another sip, Susie smiled at Luke since this man may have known her brother. LUKE: He paused in his cleaning of some glasses as he listened to Susie. “You know Max?” No, wait. That wasn’t the important bit of information. “Noah’s your brother?!” Now they were on to the task at hand. He eyed Susie to see if he had his facts correct. SUSIE: Tilting her head to the side, she gave him an odd look. “Yeah. Noah Locke is my older brother. I don’t really know Max, but I’ve met him a few times.” Most of the time, he was writing music with her brother, so there wasn’t much conversation there. “How do you know Noah?” Sip. LUKE: “Well...” he paused a moment. Quickly deciding that saying ‘He was the guy who gave me the okay for raping his friend’ was not the way to start this conversation, he went a different route. “Through Max. Not a bad guy,” and that was the truth, no matter how much Noah acted like an ass, it was all for caring about his friend. “Max is the one who got me the job here.” SUSIE: Even if he had said that particular statement, Susie probably wouldn’t have acted very surprised in the least bit. Hell, it would probably be some of the more tame things Noah had said, believe it or not. “Oh. OK. Cool.” She then took a long sip of her drink. “Has he started saying random WTF things to you yet?” If he hadn’t, she might be strangely disappointed. LUKE: “Um...yes.” That was all he had to say on that matter without going into gross detail. SUSIE: Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip. “Yeah. That’s Noah for you,” she simply answered before taking another sip of the drink. LUKE: “That is great. I’ll remember that next time he says something st--silly.” He placed his glass down. “You know, I was planning on going by myself, but if you are as well, why don’t we go together?” He was sure Noah wouldn’t like it, and it would be nice to have a friend whose pants he wasn’t trying to get into. SUSIE: She noticed your little slip-up there, Luke, but she knew her brother well enough to know stupid was often a good word in describing him. “Oh!” Her eyes lit up at the suggestion. “That would be really great because I really didn’t want to walk there alone. And you look like you could beat up any creepers.” LUKE: “Of course,” he laughed, patting one of his biceps. “I used to be a bodyguard you know.” As someone down the counter waved to get his attention, he indicated he would be with them in a moment, then turned back to Susie. “I guess I have to get back to work. Come meet me here outside of the bar and we’ll walk over there together. I’m Luke by the way.” SUSIE: It was a strange city and she wanted all the potential protection she could get. Plus not being scared made her less likely to freak out, thus appearing more like a normal twentysomething woman. “I’m Susie. I’ll be you here about eight-fifteen then.” Now to finish her drink, pay her bill, and collapse on Noah’s couch. |