Happy Hour

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola is annoyed, as usual, but not entirely surprised, when he sits at the bar, and instead of his usual glass of wine, is given a note asking for help.

"Again?"

Another note.

"Fine, fine. No need to get snippy."

He steps behind the counter and sets the specials board in front of him, lazily flipping through the Big Book O' Drinks.


It might be a while before those specials get posted.

Comments

[chime_ra_tilt]

Zelgadiss, having spent the entire day in the library upstairs, is thirsty and not inclined to wait for the specials. It's rare enough to see a bartender; best take advantage while one's there.

"Glass of wine," he says, taking a barstool.

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola looks up from the specials board and arches a lazy eyebrow. "Any particular type, or shall I just guess?"

[chime_ra_tilt]

"I don't much care," says the customer, shrugging under his off-white cloak and hood.

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola smirks. "All right, then."

And he gets the cheapest vintage white he can find and pours a glass.

[chime_ra_tilt]

Zelgadiss puts a pebble-flecked hand up to stop the glass. The glass edge makes a slight grating noise as it brushes his finger.

"I said I don't much care. I don't not completely care." Please. He has standards.

[ps_you_look_hot]

"Then you should have specified."

Still, he empties the glass and pours another, a middle-of-the-road vintage this time.

[chime_ra_tilt]

"A good bartender knows how to strike a good balance on the first try," he says, taking the glass and sipping from it.

He's had worse.

[ps_you_look_hot]

"And a good customer knows how to ask for what he wants."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"I suppose I've gotten spoiled, being served by a Bar that doesn't automatically serve glorified vinegar when one asks for wine. I shouldn't have set my expectations so high for you," says the chimera, idly.

"Your first time bartending?"

[ps_you_look_hot]

He smirks. "No, but it's not my usual gig."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Sorry to say it, but it shows," he says, wry.

Of course, Zelgadiss' stomach decides to betray him just then, rumbling.


"..."

He might not require nearly the caloric intake Lina does (he's not proud of it, but he tries to think it quietly, just in case. Lina's temper is scary.), but it's still been quite a while since he's eaten.

"I don't suppose there are any dinner specials, either?"

[ps_you_look_hot]

"I'm afraid you'll have to pay full price for those," Nikola says dryly, leaning on the counter.

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Money's no problem."

He'll figure out how to pay his tab later, when he's not caught between being in the bar or adrift at sea.

[ps_you_look_hot]

"Then what can I get for you?"

[chime_ra_tilt]

After thinking a moment, Zelgadiss lists a number and variety of dishes, an amount of food easily able to feed three or four people.



What?

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Nikola just arches an eyebrow and disappears to the kitchen.

He comes back in a few moments. "It will be ready shortly."

[chime_ra_tilt]

Zel isn't even built as though he could contain that much. He's still of a slight build, despite the stone and wire.

"Thanks," he says, as Nikola comes back.

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola frankly couldn't care less what he does with the food once he has it.

"It's my job," he says with a shrug.

[chime_ra_tilt]

There's only one reason Zelgadiss thanked him.

"You do better when taking food orders than when given any leeway about drinks," Zelgadiss says, sipping his wine. He's thankful for that one small improvement, at the very least.

"What do you do when not tending bar?

[ps_you_look_hot]

"A great many things."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Not one of them deserving proper mention, apparently."

[ps_you_look_hot]

"Or I simply don't care to discuss my business with a stranger."