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 Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 5:12 pm
"I think I found us some help for the shop." Tully noted, dropping this particular bomb shell while he was well armed with a meat fork and an open oven, giving the steaks he was preparing an experimental poke.
They'd perfumed the apartment with garlic and pepper, and a few other things that Tully insisted were his 'secret' blend for the perfect steak. This 'secret' might have been slightly more plausible if it weren't so flexible, since he seemed to be constantly tweaking it, borrowing this or that idea from what he'd discovered and liked in his quest for 'steak-vana'.
"Guy called Writ. I said we'd give him a weeks trial to see how well he picks up and learns the menu."
He'd mentioned wanting to hire someone, but then again, the original plan hadn't involved giving someone fresh off the street a trial period, which might have been why Tully was announcing this while armed with hot meat and a fork, and the threat of tossing a handful of Cilantro onto the almost ready steaks.
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Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 6:05 pm
Steaks were the only thing Con trusted Tully with cooking, and he rather liked it when he made them. It made him feel pampered and let him imagine, just for a little bit, that they actually had some sort of functional relationship beyond pure platonics. So instead he leaned against the counter bar with what he thought was a promising 'come hither' look but mostly just looked sort of ridiculous. As per usual, Con had no idea what to do with his limbs.
"Never met him," he said, frowning. "Why didn't you run this by me first?" Con really had no problem with it, provided this Writ (whoever he was!) didn't have any grand illusions of being a chef. No one who was anybody went into the kitchen without Con's say-so, and they certainly didn't cook without his approval yet.
"Is he cute?" he asked, this being the natural next question. At least, in his mind. "Cuter than me?"
Beat.
"Cuter than you?"
This, in Con's eyes, was highly unlikely. Tully was an Adonis.
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Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 6:16 pm
"Yeah he barged in today and asked for the job." Tully grimaced, feeling the need to defend his choice, which he had to admit had been made under the influence of aching feet. "He'll be helpful out front, at the very least he can bus the tables clean. I'm hoping he's got the brain to learn the menu and run a little bit of a sales pitch..." He didn't sound entirely confident in this, no more than Connor was confident in the ability of others to cook.
"Grab us some cold drinks and bring the plates over will ya?" He added, eyeing the steaks again, critically.
"Even if all he can do is move dishes and wipe down the tables it'll be a life saver when we get hit with a rush crowd, because if he can do that, I don't have to do it and I can focus on pitching to the customers."
He straightened up, tapping the fork on the top of the stove while he waited for the plates.
"...As for cute. You're seriously asking me to tell you if I. Personally. Thought a guy was cute?" He demanded, raising an eyebrow at his gangly partner. "...He's got ears that can probably pick up radio signals from half a continent away." he added. "Kinda lanky. Creepy eyes. He's either a modder or he's got some really weird contacts." Another huge sigh here. It seemed to be damn hard to avoid gene-modders these days, but at least this one hadn't sniffed and fondled him.
The guy had just seemed a bit more trustworthy than Captain Cockatoo, though he couldn't have put his finger on exactly why.
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Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 6:32 pm
Connor was halfway into the fridge when Tully said the last bit. He nearly his his head, he straightened up so fast - "You hired a modder?" he asked, and the beer bottles clinked together. He slammed them down on the bar. "Teddy, baby, are you crazy?"
The guys across the street were modders, and there went the neighborhood. Pretty soon there'd be junkies shooting up on the corner, whores turning tricks in the alleys - Con was certain of it.
"You do realize that, until this afternoon, we were the last bastion of good taste on Cherry Street?" he asked, eyebrows waggling. But he was wearing a wine-colored bowtie, so the proclamation was debatable. If there was one thing that was in question, it was Con's possession of good taste or sound mind.
He got plates and held them out for Tully, rigid arms and pained expression suggesting crucifixion. "Seriously. Seriously. Seriously?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 6:42 pm
"I didn't hire him I said we'd see if he worked out." Connor grumbled, instantly digging in his heels and going balkish. He didn't like having his nose rubbed in a mistake or a potential mistake, and this time was no exception. "I don't know if you've noticed but we don't exactly have people falling over themselves to clean tables."
He stabbed one of the steaks a bit more aggressively than he needed to and slapped it grumpily onto a plate, followed by an equally aggressive slap of the second onto the plate, and a BANG as he nudged the oven door shut fiercely with his foot. It wasn't so hard that the oven couldn't take it, but it was hard enough to make the point that Tully was bordering on an towering sulk.
"And don't call me baby!" He added, grabbing a small pot that had been heating up some seasoned green beans and dumping them out onto the plates as a side dish, which he would probably shovel around and try and avoid eating until it was pointed out that the technique didn't work out for ten year old's either.
"Anyway, if we didn't hire him, he'd have probably walked on over and Captain Cockatoo probably would have hired him, which is all fine and dandy except that we're not going to stay ahead of them for long unless we can get customers into tables and ordering... so don't yell at me until you meet the guy ok?"
Connor wasn't actually -yelling-, but generally speaking, Connor didn't need to yell. He was rather obnoxiously good at manipulating Tully's emotions at levels Tully didn't like to think about. If he hadn't been upset over Con's disapproval, he wouldn't have been quite so irritable.
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Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2011 6:58 pm
"Alright," grumbled Connor, settling sulkily into his chair. He was going to make an effort to not like the new guy, actual gene-modded hoodlum or not, just on the basis that the decision had been made over his head. "See how the customers like him. Maybe we need a youthful face to keep the college crowd. Yadda yadda yadda, are we having fun yet?"
He was in a grumpy mood, and it was probably going to spoil his night. He cracked the top off his beer and took a gulp. Tomorrow he was going to make a fancy, hand-lettered HELP WANTED sign and stick it in the window over a display of mouth-watering cakes and pies. Between the food and the cute uniform (aprons! With a cartoon cherry!), who could possibly say no?
"Is this Writ kid going to submit to an apron with a jubilant cherry on it?" he asked. You'd think that, with the economy the way it was, more people would have expressed interest than just some gene-modding punk. Maybe government scholarships really did over-pay.
He sliced into his steak with all the controlled fury of a thousand Korean mothers.
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Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2011 4:38 pm
With Connor taking on the role of angry mother, Tully fell almost instinctively into the role of slightly guilty, still muleishly defending his position and sat down, scowling at Con edgily from under his brows.
"He's going to or he doesn't even get a half day trial." Tully pointed out, regarding the idea of Writ in an apron. he didn't mention the detail where Writ was also going to need a few other more articles of clothing, but he'd already pointed out that there was a dress code.
He sawed strips off his steak, piling them up and trimming them without actually eating the steak. It was a nervous behavior, normally he'd have dug into it right away. He even deliberately ate a green bean without steak, an demonstrative and somewhat childish attempt at peace.
"I'm not an idiot, I picked you to go into business with didn't I?" he pointed out, his tone still sulky.
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Posted: Thu Jan 27, 2011 6:53 pm
There would be pants and a shirt to go with the apron. Con had seen the way they dressed at that other shop and he didn't like it one bit. It only made him feel old when he realized that the waiters were both competition and far too young for him to flirt with. (Also, Quinn had hit on Tully. That b*****d!)
Still, he had to smile when his partner put a green bean singly into his mouth. Con's fury lifted. He put down his silverware and gave Tully a round of golf-claps.
"If you eat all your vegetables, you can have dessert."
He might have meant cake. He might have meant wine. He might have meant "Let's get drunk and then I'll try to make out with you." It was impossible to predict these kinds of things with Con.
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Posted: Fri Jan 28, 2011 5:15 pm
"Don't be a d**k." Tully grumbled, and stabbed a piece of steak. He glared, though he was actually pleased that he'd found a way to make Connor unwind slightly, and it had only taken one green bean.
Technically they weren't bad, but they were a -side dish-. Side dishes were trivial decoration to the important part, which was clearly the steak.
If he was right, hiring Writ was sort of a side dish to the shop, and if they played their cards right, which he'd managed to do so far, he'd be just as non-memorable. No more exciting, he was hoping, than your average zit covered teenager that sometimes did a short stint at the tables for extra cash.
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Posted: Sat Jan 29, 2011 8:20 pm
Except this zit-covered teenager was nearly as tall as Con and had ears like a comic book elf. "I just hope he's better behaved than the guys across the street," said Connor, cutting his steak primly. In Con's mind, all gene modders were now forever associated with Quinn and Vale. Vale he supposed was okay, and all you had to do to be better behaved than Quinn was not be a total spaz and not flirt with Tully.
Flirting with Tully was Con's exclusive privilege, and everyone else had better steer clear of his man. "There's a german chocolate cake in the fridge," he said, popping a thin slice of steak into his mouth. So drunken sexual harassment was off the menu for tonight. Connor watched Tully's expression, waiting for a sigh of relief.
But he didn't hold his breath for one. "I made it special," he said.
He smiled.
"The icing is spiked."
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