quietmounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHAT In person or texting, I don't know, I'm not your boss
WHERE Wherever you'd be at night
WHEN Day 1, night
NOTES aj said i was allowed to make a new post

[So, you've survived your first—or fiftieth, or five-hundredth—day in Quiet Mounds. Tonight, it's raining—or, it's not. Maybe you're trying to get used to your new, quiet apartment. The electricity is buzzing in that way that's hard to ignore, a silence so loud it's deafening, in that poetic sort of way.]

[Or maybe you're one of the sad sacks still working at the 24/7 joints. Or their why-am-I-even-up-this-late customers. You're the reason why capitalism does this to people, you know.]

[☽ ☽ ☽]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ducking inside, pulling his damp hood down. he's already more than a little drenched. wearing jeans and a zip-up hipster hoodie, revealing a dazzlingly beautiful face and shining hair, angels sang, etc etc]

Ah . . .

[he seems concerned about leaving footprints]

[Dave doesn't notice him until he makes a noise. He jerks his head up.]

Oh, shit.

What? What is it? I'm sorry—

Uh, stay where you are. —No, wait, shit. Do you want clothes?? I have some clothes. That aren't wet.

No—it's fine, I'm. Would you like me to leave?

Dude, looking at you makes ME feel wet.

[God dammit]

No, it's cool, I still need to use the swab shaft. Uh, MOP. Sit. [HAND GESTURES]

. . . if you're sure.

[sits, perched anxiously on the edge of a chair]

.........

Did you want coffee.

I think so . . .? A warm drink?

Ok.

[Dave shuffles off to get coffee and puts a basic-ass mocha in front of him.]

How much do I owe . . .?

[his eyes widen a little]

[IMMEDIATE FLUSTERED RESPONSE]

First one's free??!

[way to fuck up employment Dave]

Edited 2017-05-11 21:10 (UTC)

[gives him a dazzling smile, amused]

I appreciate that, but I wouldn't want to get you in trouble . . .?

Then don't tell my boss I gave you a free drink. It's cool, pretty sure he's not measuring the milk.

Haha, very well, I won't.

[taking a sip, then smiling in surprise]

Oh! It's so sweet.

[Squints at him.]

Sweet like I fucked up and put in too much syrup or sweet like this is your first time tasting processed sugar.

I'm not sure what you mean by "processed" do perhaps that answers it?

Processed is like.

....

I don't actually know what the fuck processed means in any kind of detailed way, nevermind.

. . .

[he pulls out his phone and Googles it]

The definition of what constitutes a processed food can vary slightly, but it usually refers to foods that are packaged in boxes, cans or bags . . . in addition to going through many complex processing steps, processed foods often contain additives, artificial flavorings and other chemical ingredients.

I see . . . well, it tastes delicious.

You just used a cellphone like it is a miraculous repository of collaborative knowledge instead of a passive vessel for winking emotes.

You definitely ain't from around here.

[he laughs in surprise]

No . . . I just learned how to use it earlier today. Is it one of those cases where people take it for granted if they're already used to it . . .?

Yeah. And no amount of scholarly intent could possibly stop someone from checking messages first, literally impossible.

Oh, I haven't got any messages. I don't really know many people.

[a pause]

I don't quite understand the cultural nuances of asking for someone's number, either.

[Dave ponders this a moment.]

Asking for someone's number can be a flushed thing or a friend thing, just depends on context. Usually when someone says some dude asked for their number and they are telling this to you as a personal anecdote that means it was a flushed thing.

It just shows some level of investment so if you like to be all cagey and coy you might want to play some mind games and trick them into texting you first.

A "flushed" thing?