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Darlene's had a dingy sort of charm from the outside, posters old and new hung in the windows for a few local bands as well as college events that students asked to advertise. At least one large motorcycle always leaned and blocked a portion of the sidewalk outside. The new name was painted fresh in the front main window (above neons of beer brands) but the formal hanging sign above the door just said 'PUB'.

Inside it seemed to be just what you'd expect, a dark wood bar to the right with a smattering of hunched backs and several TVs showing whatever was requested, booths and tables filling the rest of the space with a single waitress who was only marked as such, not by uniform (there was none), but by the apron and notepad she carried on her hips. Whatever the new menu was like, it certainly smelled good.

Dhan's entrance garnered the attention of the two massive dogs that the owner kept, neither rising from their spots on the floor but ears perked and tails wagged.

"Hello!" The man behind the bar moved to the door end, a barrel bellied man with a friendly grin and a chronic lack of sleeves that showed massive tattooed arms, "You alright with dogs? They want to say hi."

Should the young man confirm he was fine with them, Borr waved a hand and the beasts scrabbled across the wooden floor with wriggling butts, wagging tails and lolling tongues- Dhan was basically snuffled at and harassed for pets.

"What can I help you with, son?"

Borr came out from the bar with a grin and wiped a hand on his pant leg before he thrust a warm meaty palm at the young man for a shake, "I am. And who're you?"

The older man snapped his fingers on the other hand and the dogs gave Dhan's fingers a lick before they roamed away, one laying down with a 'humph' by the bar and the other wandering to stand in an empty booth and look out the window.

Borr's hands went to his hips and Dhan has his unwavering attention, "What're ya interested in doin?"

"Dishwashing?" His thick white brows knitted over his eyes. Dishwashing was something for a 16 year old to do for under the table cash. This young man looked a bit older, though Borr had a hard time distinguishing the ages of young people these days, "How old are you?"

"I'll be honest, most jobs here involve more than just one task. Don't have use for someone who can only wash dishes and do nothing else.. You ever help out cooking at home?" Extra hands in the kitchen to help Nasir would be nice.

Or extra hands to serve.

Or someone to bus tables and maybe do some other cleaning.

Borr's concerned look lessened, not because of the blush, but because the other at least had some skills that could help around here.

"Well good," he smiled a bit and gave Dhan a hearty pat on the side of the arm, enough to rock the thin young man a bit on his feet, "You're of age and you say you can do it. I'll give you 10 bucks and hour. Basically just doing whatever we all need. Nasir's our cook so you may be dealing with him a lot."

The older man then lifted a hand to run through his beard, tugging it below his chin for a second, "You have a name, son?"

Borr really didn't have many standards for hiring, not until someone set off his crazy or shady radar. Dahn didn't even ping on them. He figured this was his first job, and really there wasn't a better place to learn than here.

"Dhan," he repeated, to imply it was a good name,"You can call me Borr. Like the father of Odin, not the pig."

Two shrivelled regulars who clearly lived at the bar sniggered with some commentary about pigs, boars, horniness and then ended with a wheezed, 'BORR-ing!'. Apparently eavesdropping was a treasured past time when you lived on a barstool.

Borr twitched, familiarizing his new hire with the environment in a bellow that made sure the sniggering old men heard him, "Pretty sure the bar was built around those Statler-and-Waldorf assholes!"

At mention of the dogs he grinned.

"My children." he rumbled adoringly. "Fat one is Dummy," The rottweiler's ears lifted where he lay, "Dane is Knucklehead. Or Knuck. She's the baby."

He motioned for Dahn to follow him. He'd have to sign some papers and they'd work out minutiae. The single waitress had moved behind the bar as the bar door opened and another patron entered. Borr's eyes had a habit of following anyone that passed his line of sight before dropping back to Dahn.

"Come on to the back. We'll work s**t out." He mosied to a door beside the bar near the bathrooms, "You have a dog?"

"Don't rush into being a full adult too fast. It's nice living for free while you can." Borr chuckled, "Everything costs money eventually. Even your time."

The door led to hall that connected everything behind the scenes and in moments they were in what must have been a business office. There was a desk that seemed more like a messy table and the office chair looked battered to s**t and duct taped together. It sagged when Borr sat in it.

A large photo sat on the desk of a grey haired woman with similarly rosy cheeks and sunglasses sitting on a motorcycle. The older man glanced at it quietly for only a split second before his eyes went to the desk and he found a gnawed pen.

"Alright. You got a resume?" He seemed suddenly serious, "I need to check references."

Borr's serious expression cracked into a booming laugh, "I was just shitting you but I'm glad to see you're prepared." Never a bad thing.

He pulled out something that looked like a tax form, a contact info sheet, and traded it with the resume. It would be good to keep on file. Clearly Borr's filing system was more of a piling system.

"You fill those out and bring them back when you start. We don't open until 11 so you don't have to worry about mornings, except on the weekends. We do brunch and Nasir will definitely need help." With paperwork shuffled (perhaps just to look important or busy, the older man hated paperwork). he rose from the chair which let out a wheeze of relief from his weight.

"You want to meet him? Nasir I mean."