2019-06-19 - Grizzly and Gummies

It's early enough the sun hasn't yet risen and the sky is misty grey and the weather a cool drizzle. Inside the diner, however, there are already a scattering of workers clutching onto coffee cups and making quick work of their breakfast platters, and the sound of someone bustling in the kitchens. One server, a rather tall, gangly punk rock guy with a mohawk who is only identified as a server due to his apron, is leaning against a wall on his phone. Behind the counter is a woman straight out of the 1930s...sort of. Purple hair is swept back into vintage pin curls, a knit button up sweater in purple bears a little beetle knit pattern, and her black midi skirt has little skull buttons along one side. Her lips are purple, to match her sweater, and she seems to be playing poker with what can only be the other waitress, a petite blonde in baggy clothes.

As for the music? It's a jazzy, big band sound today, it seems.

What does a person do when she's been up all night, unable to sleep? Get showered, get dressed, get breakfast. Genevieve doesn't feel like cooking so she walks down to the Grizzly Den Diner, umbrella in hand as the sky still seems to be trying to drown all the humans. She steps in, pulls the umbrella shut and takes a look around. She's dressed in a pair of boot-cut dark blue denim jeans and a simple black tee-shirt. Her hair is long and loose today, but there is a loosely knit beanie on her head. "Oh shit does it smell good in here." Her faint accent can be heard, probably heavy from the lack of sleep. She walks up to the bar, her eyes scanning the place as she moves, settles down and crosses her legs. She eyes the woman with the purple hair, a clear look of appreciation for her outfit showing on her face, as she plucks a menu up to study it and make some decisions.

The menus wide instead of long, a silhouette of a bear on all fours, the fold along the bear's spine. They're even laminated! And probably rinsed off every fiscal quarter. Probably. Either way, she has plenty of time to look over the menu items, because absolutely none of the wait staff hop over to ask her order or if she wants a drink. The mohawk guy keeps texting, the two at the counter keep playing cards. Eventually, someone at a table calls out for a coffee refill, and Gina - the purple-haired one - smirks and makes a litte shooing gesture to the petite blonde, who sets down her cards and reaches for a coffee pot, nervously shuffling over. It gives Gina a change to look around, spot Genevieve and...respond to her earlier statement, "We get a lot of to-go orders in the morning." Perhaps explaining the smell. Which means they DID hear Genevieve come in, at least. "You want something or what?"

Sticky menu, but it still has food printed on it and Genevieve is at the point where she could probably eat the menu for sustanance. "Yeah, hold on." She holds up a finger, continuing to look over her options. "Can I have a scrambled egg, some bacon and an english muffin?" She glances up, her gaze settling on the guy with the mohawk, he looks really into whatever or whoever he's texting. She sets the menu down, rubs her fingers against her palm to get the stick off. "I love your hair." She adds, glancing at her own with a frown. "I don't think I could pull off the color." Sigh. "Oh, and orange juice if ya'll have it, please."

A little pad is picked up, the order written down, "Thanks." A little smile, a glance up at Genevieve, "Yeah, you probably couldn't pull off this shade. You'd need to go dark. Or lilac or something. It'd wash you out." She rips off the order, stabbing it onto the waiting pin where the cook can get to it. Then she opens up a small fridge, pulling out a pitcher to pour Genevieve a glass, setting it in front of her. The glasses are clean! And the juice is actually freshly squeezed. "But honestly if you love a color, just get it. Who cares? Just balance it out with your clothes."

"You're not wrong, worrying takes a lot of time out of your life." Genevieve picks up the glass, taking a small sip. She makes a pleased noise, takes a longer drink before she sets the glass down. "This is probably the most unique place I've been since I've started traveling." She gazes down, reading some of the bear facts. "Maybe I'll settle on a shade of rose pink and hope that my personality carries me through all the comments it's likely to get. How long have you worked here?" She asks Gina, a smile on her face. "Know Bennie? I met her at a .. bar? Yes, it was a bar. A bar with tacos."

Gina shrugs, "People are lucky. We can do whatever the hell we want with out tailfeathers. Might as well dandy up with what makes you happy." Like a whooooole lot of black, in Gina's case. There's a smirk at the comment about the decorations, and the question about her employment. "Bought the place a couple of years back. Thought about getting rid of the bears, but the little fuckers amused me. Plus it'd be pricey." She moves towards the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup and adding caramel syrup - the sort you put on ice cream - and giving it a stir before she takes a sip. "Bennie's who I hired to prove I don't burst into flames in the presence of good cheer." Dryly stated.

"It leaves a lasting impression, and sometimes those are a lot of fun." Genevieve glances around again, her crossed legs swinging idly back and forth as she takes in the decor and the people. "I'll consider my tailfeathers when I have some time and see what color will shout Genevieve. Probably something green, hopefully not in the pea variety." She shifts her gaze back to Gina. "Well, she is very very cheerful. She was very sweet when I met her, seemed pretty tired though." She looks thoughtful, taking another drink of her juice. "What would you have changed it to if the bears hadn't amused you?"

"Probably classier. A lot of dark wood. Some potted plants. A few photos here and there. Probably some fancy curtains around. Something that doesn't scream half our menu is fried." An overstatement! More like two fifths. But Gina shrugs, "Diner food sells really well here, though, so probably for the best I kept it low-key. Workers give me half my business." Gina sips at her coffee, leaning against the counter, "Maybe if someone else dies and leaves me a buttload of cash, I'll open up a tea shop downtown."

"Well, I'm staying in town, and I'll be in here a time or two. I am a huge fan of diner food, even if it means I have to jog twice as much." Genevieve glances around, trying to see the diner through the description that Gina just gave her. Her eyes narrow and she nods slowly. "I could see that, it would be beautiful." She picks up the sticky menu, waving it around between two fingers. "This is all personality though." She remembers herself and laughs. "I'm Genevieve Dupuis, I'm opening a little business venture over on Elm."

"Gina Castro. Local business owner. All about serving the people." Such a bland, deadpan statement right there. Just then, there is a ding! and Gina pushes away from the counter, taking her mug with her as she grabs the ready plate and then settles it in front of Genevieve. Everything requested. Perfectly toasty english muffin full of nooks and crannies, crisp bacon, fluffy scrambled egg, a bit of whipped butter and jam on small dishes at the side. "Honey and salt's right over there," Gina gestures down the counter, and makes no move to go fetch herself, just sips more of the coffee. "This place does grow on you. I figure if I ever redo it, I'll give the place a whole colorful geometric vibe instead of all the wood. Do some weird Russian fairytale vibe stuff. Put fur hats on all the bears."

"How do you feel about marijuana?" Genevieve asks, spreading butter on the english muffin before she drizzles honey on it. She sighs as she gazes down at the plate and then picks up the fork to cut into her eggs. "The bears would probably appreciate the ambiance, and if nothing else, everyone else would be amused by the colors and hats." She puts the eggs in her mouth, chewing slowly. Once she swallows, she grins. "I'm going to be going spartan. Glass counters, a place to set up bongs, pipes and all that kind of stuff. The edibles are what I'm excited about. Any excuse to bake." She picks up a piece of bacon, crunching into it. "I'm hoping that people in this city aren't wholly against something like that."

"Unlike cookies, it's a sometimes treat." Gina says, on the subject of marijuana. "Helps me sleep some nights. But I prefer it it edible format if I can get it. Stinks up the house otherwise. And I don't want Iggy and V to be second hand smokers." Her eyes glance towards Genevieve with a little more curiosity at her career choice, "Gummy's preferable. Or sugar-free stuff so my teeth don't rot out if I forget to brush my teeth before bed. And you'll probably do enough business to get by." Gina's attention goes to her cup, giving it a gentle spin as she gives the smallest of smiles. "Anything that helps people relax and forget does well up here."

"Ah, well I made an excellent career choice then. I'm still going to hide it from my parents for a while, they're a little buttoned up." Genevieve laughs softly, picking up a piece of english muffin to crunch into it. Honey drips down on her chin and she snorts, using a finger to keep it from dripping down on her tee-shirt. "We'll have gummies, but they won't be home made. I'm shit at it. I either fuck up how sweet they are or they just taste weird." She sighs and scoops up honey on her plate before she takes another bite. It's just as messy but she manages to keep it off her shirt. "I'm opening in a little under two weeks, hoping to get everything cleaned up and situated the way I want it. Not having any help makes it go slower."

There MAY be a small snort at Genevieve's optimism. Okay, there was definite a snort, which eloquently expressed Gina's opinion on all of that. "Where are you setting up? There's a few places that've been closed around here it could be." After all, it's not a small town, but it's not exactly a big city up here in Gray Harbor. "Good luck. You'll know if life sucks for you in a few months anyway. Would be nice not to have to make the drive to get my edibles."

"Just a little off of Elm. I bought the whole building, and boy did it need work. I managed to get a whole greenhouse built on the roof." Genevieve makes a noise, picking up a piece of bacon with very sticky honey fingers. "Apparently it's been vacant long enough that people didn't expect me to be there. Called the cops on me." She takes a bite of her bacon and rolls her eyes. "I was minding my own business, planting and getting things into the hothouse, and I turn around. Police officer. Nearly scared the life out of me." She huffs out a sigh and shrugs. "That is what I hope people do, come to see me instead. Home cooking, homemade tinctures. Reliable pot. If it works out, I can come get diner food more often." She flashes a closed mouth grin, chewing at the piece of bacon still.

"If you're licensed to grow as well as sell, you could also bill your shit organic and local for that extra business oomph. It's super important to be environmentally conscience and eat local." It's...so very, very hard to tell if Gina is being sarcastic or not. "Good luck with the cops. They'll probably show up a lot to check up on the place since it's new in town. Make sure you're not cutting it with coke or oregano or something." She smirks a bit, shaking her head, "We get a few police officers here. More firemen and EMTs, thanks to Bennie."

"I am licensed to grow and sell, I have a few plants shooting roots up on the roof right now." Genevieve winces and wrinkles her nose, glancing around the diner before she lowers her voice. "Not trying to advertise that, the last thing I need is someone climbing my fireplace to help themselves. The greenhouse is locked up, but it's made of glass." She takes Gina at face value, either too trusting or too polite to do otherwise. "The man who showed up was quite rude. Wouldn't tell me why he was there, was a bit surly." She takes a drink of her orange juice. "Well, I am on the up and up. I have my paperwork. If they want to stop by to make sure I'm not double loading or attempting to work outside of my licenses, they're welcome. I could use the company, frankly."

"You'll probably have more trouble with teenagers." Gina says with a small shrug. "Not old guys like these. Unless they're drunk, which is five days a week." Gina, unlike Genevieve, makes zero effort to lower her voice. But no one in the diner looks particularly shocked either by the terrible service (the blonde waitress is currently sketching as she sits in a booth, the mohawked guy painting the nails of another customer), so this is perhaps the norm for the diner. "And I wouldn't worry too much. People in town can be obnoxiously friendly. Even drug dealers'll make friends eventually, as long as you leave the house sometime."

Genevieve finishes off her muffins and eggs, drinking from her juice when Gina speaks. It's a wonder she doesn't spit her juice back out, but she manages somehow. "I've noticed that they're friendly. It's almost a little unnerving, honestly." She glances around, trying hard not to grin as she watches the waitress and the guy with the mohawk. "Seems like you have your own little vibe here, I've enjoyed breakfast, and I'll probably drag Eli down here for dinner sometime." She glances down at her hands, frowning. "You wouldn't happen to have a wet-nap would you? I don't want my tip to be sticky from the honey."

One corner of her lip curls up in a half-smile, amused, "I figured the bonus of owning my own business was making it someplace with work conditions I could tolerate. Knew I couldn't be the only one in the world who didn't want somebody passing by my table every five fucking seconds asking me if I wanted anything." But then Genevieve is making a request for stuff, and Gina pushes away from the counter again, grabbing a few packets of wet wipes from a bucket and tossing them on the counter near Genevieve. "One for the road. Hope you don't get robbed or brought to court or arrested before your grand opening."

Genevieve cleans her fingers, laughing softly. "Well, I don't like being stifled so this works out for me." She wrinkles her nose, giving the mohawk guy a bit of side eye before she sets down enough to cover her bill with a nice tip. "I hope I don't get robbed, arrested or taken to court too. It would really put a damper on things and a very hefty nick into my savings. I'm already spending far too much." She gets to her feet, picking up the jacket that she shucked off when she arrived "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gina. I'll stop by with some gummies after we open so you can get a taste of them, oui?" She gives the place one last glance before she starts to make her way to the door. "Hope the rest of your day goes well!"

"Do svidaniya." Gina says, lifting two fingers and giving a sloppy, lazy salute farewell. And the Russian farewell seems to trip rather anturally off the tongue, too. And if Genevieve looks back, Gina just sort of...leaves the plate there while she finishes her coffee, whisking it away only once she's done with her cup, to take all of it to the back.