(no subject)

[callmemajor]

Lorne's getting kind of fond of being asked to fill in, so when that oh-so-familiar napkin pops up as he settles into his barstool, he just smiles and gives Bar an affectionate pat before moving around to the other side and picking up the specials board.

Specials

Terminator Stout
Old Chub
Athosian spiced ale
Sweetwater Motor Boat


There's a theme of sorts, but it pretty much only makes sense to Lorne.


[ooc: Open 'til 6ish PST. No new threads, please. Have fun, go crazy, threadhop like mad!]

Comments

[callmemajor]

Lorne thinks for a moment. "You know, I have no idea. Somebody thought it would be a good name, I guess."

[veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com]

"Thank you." A beat, and she looks back at the sign. "May I have five pounds of pure iron, please?"

[callmemajor]

"I..." Lorne begins. This is by far the strangest request he's ever gotten at the bar. "Er...hang on a minute." He holds up one finger in the universal signal for, 'I'll be right back,' and heads for the kitchens.

A few minutes later he comes back with a five pound block of what he assumes is pure iron. "Will this do?"

[veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com]

She gazes steadily at him. "I don't know."

But the next thing she says is, "Thank you," and she reaches forward in a polite version of the universal signal for gimme.

[callmemajor]

Lorne, equally politely, hands it over.

[veryscaryrobot.livejournal.com]

Cameron studies it for a few moments, and then tucks it into her shoulder bag and glances around the room. In less polite news, she seems to have entirely forgotten Lorne's existence.

[callmemajor]

Lorne is quite all right with that. He's got other customers, so he leaves her alone with her iron.