Happy Hour

[lady_bols]

Alex had only intended to come down for a pot of tea and a plate of Garibaldis.  Maybe a book or three.  Instead, she's greeted with a napkin.  'I'm sorry, you want me to what?'  

Another napkin appears, this time, with a strange glyph that implies maternal concern.  'I'm not turning into a hermit.   I just -- it's been a difficult few weeks.'  To say the least.

Another napkin appears, this time, invoking the tried and true: Guilt.  

'Oh all right.  If it's only for a few hours, I suppose I can manage without mucking it up too terribly.  You go on and have a nice nap.  I'll mind the shop.' Another napkin implies gratitude and indicates where the specials board is.

'Right, then.'  Alex looks a little lost as she slips behind the bar.  First things first, an apron.  And then a white cotton towel to drape over her shoulder like a proper barman.  Taking up the chalk and board, she thinks for a long moment and then writes out in a careful, flowing hand:

Specials

Red or White Wine
by the glass or carafe

Boddington's Ale

Scotch whiskey

Pot of Tea or Coffee

She makes herself a pot of tea, and sends one of the rats off for her biscuits.  'Happy hour is up, you wretched hive of scum and villainy.'

It's said with all due affection. 

[ooc: Happy hour is up!  I'm in and out because I'm doing laundry, and I may decamp to a coffee shop later, but have at!  I have to call slow for a bit.  Back later.  Enjoy! Thread hop! Do what you do best, M'ways.  <3]

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

A man in a suit comes up to the bar and looks at the specials.

[lady_bols]

'Afternoon,' Alex chimes, putting her skills to good use. 'Cultured. European, I'm guessing. Do you prefer red or white?'

[cook_the_rude]

"Good afternoon," the man in the suit says. "It depends on the grape and the vintage, naturally."

[lady_bols]

'Well, of course.' Alex spins in place, before locating the wine fridge tucked neatly beneath the bar. 'Yes, here we are.'

'I myself prefer a good French vintage from the Rhône Valley, say a Syrah or a Viognier? She has California wines here, as well. Napa and Sonoma Valleys.'

[cook_the_rude]

"What year is the Rhône Valley Viognier from?" the man in the suit asks.

[lady_bols]

Alex pulls out a few bottles until she finds the right one, and holds it up to peer at the label.

'1953?' She chuffs under her breath, astounded.

'But it doesn't look -- aged.'

She stands and extends the bottle for him to inspect.

[cook_the_rude]

"That will be interesting," the man in the suit says. "I will take a glass."

[lady_bols]

Alex meets his eyes, tacitly agreeing with him. She extracts the cork with a practiced hand, takes down the appropriate glass and gives it a quick polish. Knowing how certain wine drinkers can be, she splashes just enough for a taste in the glass and hands it to him, waiting for his approval to fill it the rest of the way.

[cook_the_rude]

The man takes the glass, swirls it under his nose, takes a deep breath, pauses, and then takes a little sip.

Silence.

[lady_bols]

Alex sets the bottle down, and wipes her hand on her apron, waiting.

'Verdict?'

[cook_the_rude]

"Interesting," the man says, putting the glass back on the bar counter to be filled properly.

[lady_bols]

Alex smiles, and nods, taking a moment to fill the glass. Clean towel in one hand, she carefully wipes away the drops that threaten to spill down the bottle.

'Anything else I can do you for? Would you like to see a menu?'

[cook_the_rude]

Before he answers, the man takes another sip of the wine, followed by another pause with half-closed eyes as he visibly savours the wine, all his attention on it.

"You keep a civilised bar," he says. "I would, thank you."

[lady_bols]

'Thank you. It's my very first time.' It's clear she takes the compliment to heart. It takes her a moment, but she shuffles through a stack of menus until she finds one in French.

'I think this is the one you're looking for.' He seems the type. 'The rats will be around in a few to take an order. Lady Bar seems to be having a bit of a kip. Hence...' She gestures to the apron around her waist.

[cook_the_rude]

He studies it.

"I've done a shift or two as well," he says. "I find it entertaining; but then, good food and drink are a passion of mine."

[lady_bols]

'It's -- interesting,' she says, smiling as she repeats his observation back to him.

'People watching is a passion of mine. The food and drink is a nice perk, though, I'll give you that.'

[cook_the_rude]

"Watching people while they enjoy my food is a special perk," the man in the suit says.

[lady_bols]

'Oh, do you cook?'

She's tidying as she talks, keeping her hands busy with quiet efficiency.

[cook_the_rude]

"Another one of my passions," the man in the suit says, taking another sip of his wine.

[lady_bols]

'Well, I suppose if one likes to eat good food, no better way to get the full experience than to prepare it to yourself.'

Alex has always enjoyed cooking but not for herself. She sees it as a way of taking care of the people she loves. She's very much a mother in that regard.

[cook_the_rude]

"And then, to have friends for dinner and see them enjoy my work," the man says. "It's the natural consequence."

[lady_bols]

'Ah, so you're the type of artist who needs an audience, then?'

She smirks, leaning on the bar, wiping her hands.

'What good is a performance if there's no one there to see -- or rather, eat it?'

[cook_the_rude]

"I have acquaintances who enjoy just watching me cook, as part of the experience," the man says, smiling. "Calling it 'Dinner and a show'."

[lady_bols]

'I imagine it's quite the production.'

Something about this man sets her teeth on edge. He's very -- polished. Very self-contained.

Something. She can't quite put her finger on it. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

'Can I get you anything else?'

[cook_the_rude]

"I try my best," the man says. "And thank you, I am good. It was nice to talk to you."