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

[lady_bols]

That gets a grin, and a bit of a chuckle. 'I refuse to go by Alexandra. It makes me think of my mother's voice, calling me when I've done something deserving of her ire.'

She goes back to polishing glasses as she chats.

'Gotham City, hmm? Sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.'

[gotham_knocking]

"If you world has one, it's between Metropolis and Philadelphia. Though most worlds don't. I think it might be fictional in some realities." Something he doesn't really think about much.

[lady_bols]

'Metropolis. That's -- where Superman is from, isn't it?'

She's not entirely pop culture blind.

'Yes, that would be fictional in -- my reality.' Her mouth curls in a sad smile. Whatever the memory is, it's bittersweet. 'It's easier to talk about such things, here, isn't it? To varying degrees.'

[gotham_knocking]

"Yep. And he's quite real to me. I've seen him up close. If not in flight. Hard to think of him as a character in a comic or a movie. But I guess I'm used to him.

"No flying men where you come from?" What would a British hero be like? He can't see it.

[lady_bols]

'Only if someone has thrown them through a plate glass window,' she says, grinning and jerking an affectionate thumb at the large, frowny-faced man at the end of the bar.

'That's amazing, though. It must be quite the sight."

[gotham_knocking]

"That's what my friends in Metro tell me." Especially Lois.

"That guy...he's a cop, right?" There is something about the look.

[lady_bols]

'He is. Detective Chief Inspector. I'm his DI.'

She leans on her hands on the bar, chin lifted, almost as if she expects him to make something of it.

[gotham_knocking]

"He's got that look. The 'I got promoted to detective but I really don't want to be bothered dressing like an executive' thing I've been seeing since I was a cub reporter.

"And, like most women I know in law enforcement, dress for success. I think because you want to be taken seriously by him, and by the crooks." And by him.

His tone is completely conversational. He's trying to sound like he just likes to make observations.

[lady_bols]

'He knows how to wear a suit, when he wants to. But his preferred form of intimidation is shouting and hitting things. I suspect that approach doesn't get you much in the world of journalism.'

'Me, I'm just a clothes horse.'

The smile this time is tight. People take her seriously because she's good at what she does. Damned good.

[gotham_knocking]

"Fair enough. I used to date a Fed. She told me that her clothes were very carefully selected for her expected assignments. And her courtroom suit made her look like a lawyer." Which seemed wrong for some reason.

"And no, I never get far with intimidation. Honestly, I could intimidate men like him?"

[lady_bols]

She glances back at Gene, an affectionate smirk in place, and shakes her head. 'Not a chance in hell, I'm afraid.'

She turns back to Alex, leaning one hip on the bar.

'There are times when I take my audience into account when picking out a suit, but usually I dress for my own tastes.' Or as was expected of her, in the fashion wasteland that was the 1980's.

'What's your beat? Isn't that what reporters call it? A beat?'

[gotham_knocking]

"Pretty much, yeah. I was on the crime beat for a long time, but these days I write a column for one of Gotham's paper. I still write about crime, since Gotham is a pretty mean place, but I bounce around a lot. And do a column on superheroes once or twice a month." Enough that he is thinking of collecting them and peddling a book on the subject.