[ happy hour ]

[almosthonorable]

Ben Wade is greeted with a handful of surprises when he enters the bar.

One is delicious.

Another is unexpected, to say the least.

And the last, well. He never minds this particular request so much.

"Happy to," he tells the counter, while he withdraws what's sure to be a spectacular cherry tart from the basket at his elbow. "As long as you don't mind me askin' a favor of you."

A napkin appears.

"Now that's just lewd," he says, smirking. "Flattered as I am, I'll have to say no, ma'am. What I need is for you to hold on to a couple things for me -- if you'd be so kind, of course."

Moments later, Ben's signature black hat and his infamous gun are in Bar's care, where they'll remain for the next few weeks, if not months.

He gives the bartop an affectionate half-smile before rounding the counter, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he goes.

Not long afterward, the specials board bears his uniform scrawl.

specials:
milk punch
bourbon
coffee
bourbon coffee
While he waits for customers, he helps himself to that tart -- which is, predictably, delectable -- and a glass of milk punch.

[ ooc: open for business all day and most of the evening, y'all. have at! and we're closed for the night, as of 11:03 p.m. EST — thanks for tagging, everybody! I'll pick up slows asap tomorrow for all who want 'em. ]

Comments

[scurlock]

"I ain't sure I like the sound of 'milk punch'," Doc muses aloud, as he approaches the counter and catches Ben's attention. "Though I will take a bourbon coffee with a bourbon on the side."

It's been a Day and a half, out back.

[almosthonorable]

"Well, it packs a punch, if I do say so myself." Ben reaches for a nearby bottle of Blanton's, and pours two fingers. "But I guess I won't fault you for wantin' somethin' hot."

[scurlock]

He peels out of his gloves.

"Let me git the feelin' back in my hands and I might try it," he says, settling on a barstool and glancing around at the other patrons. "You seem to have attracted quite the crowd."

[almosthonorable]

"Now, as sweet as that sentiment is," Ben says, sliding over Doc's glass, "I don't believe it's me so much as it's the alcohol back here."

[scurlock]

"Don't go sellin' yourself short, now, Ben. It's unbecoming for a man of your caliber."

He nods his thanks as he lifts the glass, hooking one heel onto a rung of his stool for support -- also to keep his body half-angled to the front door.

[almosthonorable]

Ben chortles as he adds a liberal splash of bourbon to Doc's coffee mug.

"The second chapter of Colossians does warn against false humility."

He serves up the requested cup of hot coffee, complete with a small pitcher of fresh cream.

[scurlock]

Doc makes quick work of the Blanton's, and then reaches for the pitcher of cream to doctor his coffee appropriately.

"I'll trust you on that, as you do seem t'be the authority on the subject matter."

Between the two of them, anyway.