dantesdichotomy (dantesdichotomy) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-05-02 18:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | xx_dante ruiz, xx_gideon ramsey |
Networking Gone Wrong
Who: Dante Ruiz and Gideon Ramsey
What: Dante's probably got a slight savior complex, and finds himself in a situation where he's the one who needs a savior.
When: May 2nd, evening
Where: Boudin
Rating: PG, probably. Will update if it ends up being different.
It wasn’t like him. Being at a bar. It wasn’t so uncommon that it never happened, it was more like a lunar eclipse. Something that happened, but every time it happened, you took note of it. The worst part? It was kind of his own fault. Ever since he had gone to Boudin that Saturday afternoon, he’d been thinking of a reason to go back. When a few of his coworkers decided that they wanted to go out after work for a meal, he suggested it. He kind of fought for it, too. Part of the reason for his passionate attempts to get his coworkers to go to Boudin was because he liked the way that the food tasted. Part of the reason was because, usually, people would want to go to Olvera Street instead. Dante had been there plenty of times. It was a bit of a cultural landmark to him, but it was also about as whitewashed and safe for Mexican food as someone could possibly get, and that really didn’t appeal to him. Still, Olvera Street was an easier option than trying to get some of them to go to East L.A. for some food that was far, far tastier. And cheaper. But the East L.A. stigma, despite being something that Dante looked at with a hefty amount of pride, was hard for some people to shake off. Like so many other things in his life, Dante found a way to make peace with that kind of ignorance, and hope that maybe, just maybe, he could eventually get them to change their minds.
Dante supposed that he should have been more aware of the fact that Boudin had a bar the first time he entered, but, for someone who had never drank anything beyond communion wine that one time, bars just didn’t have any allure to him. It was easy enough to ignore them. The only bar that did matter to him? Club 33. Would he break his eternal sobriety, simply because he was going to be in some super elitist club? No, of course not. Would he still jump at the chance to see the super elitist club? Most definitely. Did that make him a hypocrite? Possibly. But who didn’t have to stomach a little bit of hypocrisy in their life? Hell, the faith that he was born into would lead people to believe that babies were born with sin. Because that made sense.
The evening had started out nice. They all got their food. Everyone, except for Dante, got some alcoholic beverage. They were paying on individual tabs, thankfully. Dante would only pay for alcoholic drinks on dates, and, well, he and his coworkers were not on a date. Polyamory was not one of Dante’s interests, to say nothing about the fact that he was having dinner with a few of his male coworkers. People that he wanted to get to know better. They weren’t in the same department, but they still worked together. It wouldn’t hurt to have a stronger rapport with some of the other people, and his social life certainly had room for a few more friends.
Maybe it was the aftereffect of the cemetery conversation that he had Layla that made him more willing to say yes when the offer for a meal came up. Not that he was spooked by the conversation that they had, but he at least wanted to have some social time with people in a… less ominous location.
Warren was the oldest of the three of them. Just over 30, but, if Dante was being completely honest, the man looked older than that. Hardly a surprise, when one looked a little bit deeper into Warren’s life. He was already a father of three. Including a pair of twins. Predictably, Warren tapped out first. Shortly after a call from his wife. That… was kind of predictable, too.
That left Chad, who was actually a year younger than Dante. One of those lucky people who got an ideal job straight of college. But that wasn’t exactly unexpected. Chad had a UCLA education, which held far more prestige than Dante’s own CSUALA degree. Not that Chad’s intelligence shone through after a few drinks. Dante had seen Chad at his best, the guy was impressive. For the most part.
“You sure you don’t want one of these, Dante?” Chad asked, swirling around some concoction that Dante couldn’t even remember the name of. “C’mon, man! I’m buying!”
“No thanks, Chad.” Dante said sternly. “I’m perfectly content with the lemonade.”
“Buzzkill.” Chad replied before laughing. As Dante had already observed, Chad was not at his best in that moment. And it was only getting worse. The concept of drinking responsibly seemed to have gone well over the younger man’s head.
Things had already been awkward. They were getting worse. The only thing that Dante knew for sure was that a repeat company dinner with Chad was… not likely to happen.