Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 1, 2014 22:24:38 GMT -5
As great as life was occasionally, this past week had been going incredibly shittily. At least, it had been for what Alan could remember. He was missing about a day between when he had gone out to raid some guy's house with his fellows and when he woke up in a hospital bed with his mother sitting in the corner of the room, he had evidently been suspended until the matter could be investigated and resolved, and to top it all off, the only open position in the area had been at some low-life bar in the city, somewhat near the docks. It smelled like fish and piss almost constantly and it was cold as hell, but at least the former officer fit in relatively well around the area. The fresh scar tissue covering his exposed face and neck distinguished him from the civilized world sure, but out in the gutters of Seattle he fit right in. Nobody asked the man any questions because they didn't care or they assumed it was from some sort of accident, which it was, but the new sidearm the new bartender toted around on his hip probably did wonders to help.
When his mother stopped in to give him the news Alan had decided that he might as well turn in his 45c before they decided to rescind his CCL, and it sold for a pretty good price. The funds it generated were almost enough to pay for the custom 1911 he was now carrying. The firearm was a double-stacked matte-black long-slide 1911 monstrosity with an ergonomic grip and threaded barrel, with a good coating of Tritium on it's sights. The whole thing was a big hunk of semi-automatic .45-caliber hand-fitting lead-belting goodness, and it was all Alan's. With as much as he bothered shelling out for it he treated the thing like he'd treat his child, which wasn't to say that it wasn't used. It hadn't tasted blood yet and with any luck it never would, but it could rip off the head of a pin at 50 yards. It's owner made absolute sure of that.
The bar Alan had managed to get a position in wasn't the best of all possible bars, but neither was it the worst. The furnishings were decent, the lighting was pretty good, and the owner actually had a digital jukebox of sorts set up in the corner by the unisex bathrooms. The booth upholstery was a sort of worn-looking dark-colored leather that probably hadn't been replaced in the past five years, and the tables were good and heavy. At least an inch and a half of solid oak, with four-inch square posts for legs. Everything, as jaded as it was, was sturdy and made to last. Including the bartender for the day, who busied himself by pouring and cleaning glasses from behind the slightly-lower-than-chest-high table at the far end of the room.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 2, 2014 11:26:27 GMT -5
The woman wasn't sure why she would step inside another bar so soon. The last one she was in was nothing but trouble. Of course that was on the other side of the country, and what we're the odds of trouble following her? Since her flight out was cancelled and being able to meet up with Rae, Beth figured she would rent a car instead and stay out west. She drove up to Canada just because she never crossed the border before, only to turn around and drive back. Driving was relaxing for her. She was able to relax and clear her mind.
Bethany finally decided to stop at some local bar. She was hungry, and really needed to pee. The auburn haired woman parked the car and headed inside to the bathroom first. "Ugh, I look like hell." And cleaned herself up a bit. Once she felt presentable enough, she headed back out and sat at the bar. Behind it was a man that looked like he had been through hell and back, but still quite handsome in her opinion. If he made eye contact with her she would smile but wait to be approached before speaking.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 3, 2014 22:45:22 GMT -5
To be honest, the eye-patch may have been a little overkill. Sure they didn't know just how badly his eye got cut up, but he could still see out of it. Wasn't like it would hurt anyone for Alan to be using both his eyes, but those were the doctor's orders. Didn't make him look any less like a pirate or victim of head trauma, but then again, it didn't really matter here anyways.
Counting himself lucky that he only had to wear the one and then moving on with his life, Alan glanced up to watch a woman walk through the front doors, look around for a second, and then make a beeline for the bathroom. Wasn't an uncommon thing to happen. Lots of people just made a pit stop in the area and then continued on their way to wherever they were going. The lady didn't move on after she had finished her business though, which was a nice change of pace. Alan would nod to her as she took her seat, slide the now clean and dried shot glass under the counter in front of him, and then start rubbing down a few damp spots on the table's surface.
"Get'chyou a menu, or a drink?" the beaten bartender would ask shortly before glancing back to make sure there were actually menus lying around, which there were. There wasn't much on the menu to choose from save the usual bar-foods, but it did have a comprehensive list of the in-stock beverages both alcoholic and not. Once again it wasn't a very extensive list, consisting mostly of just hard liquor, but there were a few of the more... Flamboyant drinks available.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 6, 2014 21:51:25 GMT -5
A drink was tempting, but she decided against it since she'd be driving again soon. "Just a menu please." The bar didn't look like the place that would have good food. At least she was being served by a pirate. She began to wonder what happened to the guy. Bar fight perhaps. Nah.. it looked pretty bad
"Actually, I'm sorry. I'm being indecisive. I think I would like a drink. Don't bother with the menu either. Just surprise me."
That was about as much excitement as she wanted tonight. Someone else deciding on her meal. If she drank too much, she could always call for a taxi. Beth was due for some rest anyway and there were most likely some decent hotels around. Too bad she wouldn't have someone to keep her company this time. The woman's mind wandered a little about the man she stayed with. "He's probably with different women all the time." She thought.
Her focus went back to the man in front of her. Seeing if he spoke or went right to work on her order.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 7, 2014 10:09:01 GMT -5
The bartender had just about set the requested menu down when the woman changed her mind on him, forcing him to throw it back onto the small pile with the rest of it's kind. He would say "Haven't seen you around here before, new to town, driving through or...?" as he made his way up to the chef's counter, jotted down a quick order for a plate of sliders, and then started searching for a good drink. As an afterthought the man would add "Not that it's any of my business." as he took his time finishing his search. He would set a tall glass under the nozzle of one of the on-draft beer spouts, fill it almost to the brim with transparent amber liquid, and then set it to the side.
The man would hold his hand out, palm up, and say "Gonna need to see your ID, miss."
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 7, 2014 21:40:40 GMT -5
It was refreshing hearing someone start a normal conversation, even if it was just his job to be friendly. She hadn't seen one weird thing yet so far either. An idea to stay crossed her mind, but she did have to head back to Arizona soon. This whole place wasn't her ideal area anyway.
"Just going through. Took a bit of a road trip to clear my mind."
He asked for her ID, so she went into her pocket and pulled out a tiny wallet just enough for necessities. All it contained was some cash, her Arizona driver's license, and her debit card. She slid the license out of it's home and holds it out to hand it to the bartender. "Here you go."
Once he was done, she placed everything back into her pocket.
"What about you? Have you lived here long?" To Beth, he didn't appear to be the type to make a career out of serving drinks. Security maybe.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 9, 2014 21:22:53 GMT -5
Once he saw the ID, Alan took his time inspecting it carefully for any flaws that might be present in a fake. He even went as far as shining a black light over the surface of the plastic card to check the insignia on it, which checked out. Could never be too careful with someone's credentials, there had been lots of phonies being passed around lately. Fortunately Alan never had to deal with any ragers personally, but he heard they were a real mess to clean up.
Once the ID was safely put away the bartender would set the glass down on the counter in front of the lady. The guy would say "Sure, born and raised just east of Seattle. So where abouts are you headed? I can get you some stores or a hotel if you're restocking, or staying the night. Some of the traps around here will pick your wallet clean just as soon as give you a room, if you're not careful." as he took a step back and leaned against a support. He talked with the tone that one might use when giving advice to a friend, as opposed to a tone that implied he was prying into someone's private life.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 9, 2014 23:00:07 GMT -5
She watched interested as he carefully inspected her drivers license as if she was possibly a criminal. "You really like your job don't you.." She thought. Instead she said "Never seen anyone go through all that trouble checking I'D's before. Were you law enforcement before this or something?"
"Just taking my time heading back to Arizona." He seemed like a decent guy that could be trusted in helping her find a decent clean hotel free of Vampyres. "A hotel would be good. I'm actually pretty beat from driving all day. I'd really appreciate the help since I've never been here before." Bethany reached for the glass he had placed near her, and took a drink. "A taxi might be good too, since I'm going to have a few drinks." She hoped the rental would be safe, if not hopefully the insurance would cover it.. she assumed every area she stopped at was terrible.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 10, 2014 21:56:26 GMT -5
Not particularly wishing to delve into his foggy memories and current predicaments with a total stranger, Alan merely replied by saying "Something like that. Have to take pleasure where it can be taken, not that I particularly enjoy busting people. I'd be in a whole lot of trouble if I didn't care though." as he finished up. He was telling the truth, mostly. He did believe that one had to find enjoyment rather than let enjoyment find them, and he would be in trouble if he didn't give a rat's ass, but he certainly didn't take displeasure from busting underaged drinkers. It was actually one of his favorite past times, and whenever he and his friends, or, his friends up until just recently went out drinking, they had a pool to see who the minors were, if any. It was a stupid thing to remember, but the bittersweet memory caused a sad smirk to flash through the Bartender's eyes and mouth for a fraction of a second before it vanished.
"Happy to help out a friendly traveler." the man would utter in response to the woman's most recent string of shaped sounds and exhaled frequencies. He would flip a small pad of paper and pen out from a back pocket and start writing a few directions and places down. It wasn't a very large list, but it was still a list. Suddenly remembering some locker-room gossip from the force, Alan slid the piece of paper across the table and said "Here's your list. If you're heading down to the desert, be careful. Probably won't matter, but I've heard some rumors of construction strikes going on down there. Somethin' like that, anyways." before he went and took his place against the back wall again.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 10, 2014 22:38:42 GMT -5
Beth nodded as the man explained about the ID checking. It was understandable. She figured he must have really liked his previous job still. "So how do you like your job now? I always wanted to learn and possibly be a bartender at least as a aide job, but my ex husband didn't want me to." She laughed lightly. "How stupid that sounds saying it out loud. But he's an ex for a reason." Life has been pretty crazy since the divorce, but she can't remember a time she was happier. "Didn't mean to blab about my personal problems, I'm sure you get to hear plenty of that every day."
The man was kind enough to give her places and directions to nearby hotels, and she was extremely grateful for it. He slid the sheet to her and she looked it over quick. "Thanks a lot. Hopefully I won't hit any problems down that way." Beth was sick of problems and trouble. Her drive so far was pleasant enough so far. She wanted it to stay that way.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 11, 2014 21:51:59 GMT -5
"Mm, drink mixing is alright if that's your sort of thing. Not too difficult to learn, but it takes some working knowledge and practice to get everything just right. I think I spent about a week and a half getting my license to be here." Alan would say as he makes his way over the food window, where a now-finished tray of sliders rests. There were about five sliders on the tray, each one approximately a finger in diameter and three inches tall. The little cylinders of food consisted of a halved bun, a circular slab of meat, a few condiments, and some extra bits chopped into slices and dispersed within. A small stack of fries adorned an equally sized plate next to the sliders, and they came with a small dish of darker red colored paste, which one would presume to be made primarily out of tomatoes.
The tray would be set down in front of the lady by the bartender, who would say "Ah don't worry about it. Here's your food." as he did so. "Should have any problems around most of this area, people are a lot kinder than they might outwardly seem sometimes." he would finish, and then lean back against his spot on the support.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 21, 2014 10:14:09 GMT -5
Beth watched as the man collected the plate, and placed it in front if her. Seeing them made her stomach growl. Apparently she was more hungry than she thought. "They look delicious. Thank you." The woman didn't waste time as she picked one up and began to eat.
The food wasn't overly greasy which was what she expected from bar food. She finished off her drink and ordered another. About halfway through her meal she spoke up again. "So you married or anything? Kids?" It was just meant to make conversation and break an awkward silence, instead of just stuffing her face. If it sounded like she was hitting on the man, or being creepy it was a misunderstanding. The bartender might have been someone she'd be interested in. He had nice features, minus the look of him appearing as though he got into a wild bar fight. Either way scars were pretty damn hot. Bethany smiled at the thought and kept eye contact with the stranger.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 21, 2014 16:26:48 GMT -5
The bartender almost choked as he started taking a drink from a plastic bottle filled with water. Him? Married, and with kids? He'd heard a lot of things being thrown around the bar, and had been asked a lot of questions all over the place, but that one was a first. The recently-nearly-choked man would compose himself and utter a quick "Uh, no. No wife or kids. Just a dog and a sister." before finishing his drink of water. It wasn't that he was opposed to settling down and making a family or anything, and he would if he were given the opportunity, but up until recently his job didn't leave a whole lot of time to get to know anyone very well. Alan supposed that now would be a good time to figure things out, but then started second guessing himself. Things weren't liable to stay quiet for very long, especially if his dad and sibling got things sorted out on their end.
That being thought, Alan pondered over where his furry friend might be. He hadn't seen her since the raid, and evidently nobody else knew where she was either. She did know how to take care of herself though, so the old officer put the thought out of his mind.
Post by Bethany Barone on Sept 24, 2014 20:35:23 GMT -5
Watching his reaction to the question made her smirk. He appeared to be around her age. Part of her kind of wondered why not. He seemed outgoing enough where it wouldn't be difficult to find someone. Living with his sister was not a very common living situation. "You take care of your sister? That's sweet." At the mention of the dog she replied "Dogs are great. But I move around too much to have one for now."
Bethany wanted to attack him with more questions, just to see his reaction. She took a few more bites of her food and drink. "So what do you do for fun? Single guy, no kids. You should be out at a bar getting wasted instead of working at one." She was only teasing the poor guy. Her voice and body language would show it. Beth was just trying to lighten up the mood a little bit. He seemed like a very serious person.
Post by Alan Jameson on Sept 24, 2014 23:03:30 GMT -5
"Yeah, makes the morning commute easier for the both of us. I drive her to her classes on the way to work, pick her up when she's done. Makes the rent a little easier to manage when there's two of us paying anyways." Alan would respond. He chose his words carefully, intentionally leaving out the part where it was only easier to drive both of them before he was put on suspension. He wasn't really comfortable bringing that topic up with some stranger making small talk, even as friendly as she seemed.
What did he do for fun? That was a pretty good question. Recently it seemed that work was just about the only thing that he ever did, but Alan supposed he did occasionally take a trip out to the local shooting range. He didn't care for clubbing, or parties, or getting piss-drunk at random places very much. He was kind of boring, when he thought about it. At least he was right now. "I don't really do a whole lot. Work, home, and the occasional shooting range I suppose..." he would answer, after thinking on it for a while. "Not really much else to do." he would finish.