2019-06-30 - Grizzly Dining

The Grizzly Diner does a good dinner, so it's no surprise there's a decent crowd. By which we mean a little over half the tables and booths are taken. This doesn't mean the place is full of bustling waitstaff, oh no. A tall, gangly guy who looks barely over highschool with a mohawk and way too many piercings carries food with one hand and scowls at his phone with another, setting plates down without so much as an 'enjoy your meal.' A pale, washed out blonde in a baggy Velma sweater and baggy pants keeps her head low as she tidies tables. A... blond with a buzzcut whose gender is very difficult to determine helps Mr. Mohawk in getting food to people. No one stops at any table unless asked. And in the front, a purple haired woman with a purple-and-black flannel button up over a black tee dress with a prominent image of a devil and angel fighting, heavily lined brown eyes and ripped stockings handles the register between bouts of checking her own phone. The music is definitely rock, but some weird rock involving a lot of classical influences.

In walks a leggy blond in dark skinny jeans and a garishly vintage western-style shirt with abstracted... Flowers? White and red peonies on a field of black. Oh! Oh... Initial femme-vibes are put to the back-burner, as Yves' saunter up to the register results in him leaning up against the counter there, crossing his boot'd feet at the ankle, and just... Waiting? Watching the purple-haired woman in a brief moment of phone-reflection.

"Who you reckon's gonna win?" Yves says to her after a few long moments, a hand lifted to press the frames his amber tinted sunglasses, but not actually removing them yet. No attempt to clarify, at all, what he's referring to -- but hey, Yves sounds pretty relaxed about it all. Maybe that stink of lavender's got something to do with it? So chill.

The door opens and Genevieve almost gets caught in the door as she tries to deal with her umbrella. Finally she gets it to fold in, and she leaves it outside, propped up against the building. Fingers push through her hair as she tries to dry off, her eyes scanning the area as she looks for a place to sit. She scoots around the full tables, making her way up to the bar to plop down on one of the stools there. She isn't in any hurry to be served so she pulls out her own phone and checks it for messages before she tries to flag down Mr. Mohawk. "Breakfast all day, right? I'm really in the mood for some bacon and eggs. Grits if you have them?" She aims a smile in his direction, knowing that it won't do much good, but she can't help but be polite. "Oooh and orange juice please!" She calls out, he's already started to walk away though. Hopefully he caught that. She smooths down the maxi dress she's wearing and crosses her legs primly, her blue eyes shifting around to gaze at the other people in the diner.

One thing about the service... they will never do MORE. The customer is not king. It is entirely at their discretion if they want to smile or be friendly. But you do generally get your food in a timely manner, so Pepper - Mr. Mohawk - does roll his eyes impatiently before storming off into the kitchen. Gina, she of the purple hair and epic battle upon her tee, glances at Yves and raises both brows...and then smirks. "Doesn't actually matter, does it? Both pretty much are balls. But I think we know who has the better odds. You want something or just here to function as a walking air freshener?" It's a casual commentary, before she sees Genevieve and gives a small roll of her eyes, "Yo. Brownie puff pass chick. Honey sweetened or straight up?" She asks. Presumably about the orange juice.

If Yves is even aware of the rain, no attempt is made to shake the drizzle that sticks to his hair or clothes. Oblivious? Uncaring? All that attention seems to be on Gina -- a little glimmer of light playing off the chipped polish on his nails. If he's gotten lost en route to Seattle and ended up in Gray Harbor's Grizzliest Diner, that doesn't bother him either. Yves' mouth widens into a broad, lopsided smile at Gina's reply. "Why -is- it that we assume those odds, though? It's all down to their PR goons, just another propaganda war, essentially, don't you think? But now that I know who -you're- voting for..." The teasing and all-too-familiar tone drifts away before he can answer Gina further -- instead Yves' attention turns, smile evaporating into something more inscrutable as he looks over his shoulder to Genevieve, watching her through those amber-tinted lenses. "...Good question."

"Honey sweetened!" Genevieve calls out, waving a hello to Gina after she calls out. "I brought you a present!" She adds, and then raises a bag of gummies that look like cherries. Odds are, they're not just cherry gummies. She sets them down on the counter and pulls on her skirt to straighten it out. Her gaze lingers on Yves for a few beats, his shirt getting the lion's share of her attention. She scoots her legs under the bar when someone bustles by, looking a little out of place as she's not the pushy kind. She lets out a brief peal of laughter when a drive by ends with orange juice sitting near her. She picks it up, takes a drink and perks up. "Thanks!" She calls out, but Mohawk is long gone. She takes a moment to try to find him again, but she's unsuccessful. She does have orange juice though, and it has put a big smile on her face.

"Because good will always triumph over evil, and love conquers all." Gina deadpans to Yves. "I know it in my heart of hearts to be true. I'm all about the promotion of goodness and wholesomeness." It is...well, Gina just sounds so /blandly casual/ when she says it. There's not even a twinkle in her eye to say she's teasing. But her lack of passion is equally obvious. However, her attention is perked by the cherry gummies. "Oh, hey, blatant payoff." She says, wandering over to where Genevieve is and reaching for the bag of gummies, opening it up and inhaling. All smell like cherries and a little sumtin sumtin? "I thought you didn't do gummies? Or these not yours?"

Yves looks back to Gina as that deadpan analysis of Good vs Evil unfurls -- and at first, sure, there's something like a hint of amusement on his face ... just, why is it that her ultra-casualness, that void of passion in Gina's tone, has Yves looking, in a word, maudlin?

No. Perhaps haunted.

All gone as he looks over to Genevieve and her bag o' cherry gummies; expression back to chill indifference as Yves alters his lean against the counter and moves to sit a seat-away from where the special candy toting OJ drinker is. A glimpse between her and Gina - interest, openly piqued. Inevitably, he's Yves-dropping on their interaction.

"You were not the only one interested in them, so I gave them a whirl. Let me know what you think, I had to do four batches to get them right, well.. right in my eyes." Genevieve looks amused, her orange juice still in her hand. She takes another sip and sets it aside. "I was going to bring you some brownies too, but I wasn't sure if you'd like them." She brushes her hair back away from her face and points to the baggie. "I knew I'd get an honest opinion from you on those, so text the number on the sticker on the back of the baggie. Let me know if I should continue to play around with fruity flavors." She sees Yves watching them, so she leans to the side to wiggle her fingers in his direction. "Hello!" She calls out, a hint of an accent tinting her voice as she speaks. "Did you come for breakfast too?"

"Cool, I get to be a guinea pig. I'll be sure to finish my will before trying some of these." Gina says, rolling her eyes... but she keeps the gummies, making sure the bag is properly closed before she places them somewhere beneath the counter, "Might give some to Ghostie, so you might get two opinions. Not surprised, though. Gummies beat baked goods whenever." Controversal statement, thrown down as pure fact. Also did she just casually keep edibles on work premises where anyone can get to them? Yeah totally. Her attention drifts back towards Yves watching him. Not expectantly or curiously. Just watching.

Yves is so caught up on dropping in on Gina and Genevieve's conversation, that when the sweet-toting woman calls out to him directly, he seem moderately surprised to be addressed at all -- eyebrows raising for a moment, before he leans forward to prop himself up on his elbows, damp hair all a'tangle. "Something like that."

A beat, then Yves reaches into the back pocket of his jeans... Out comes a smallish bottle that could easily be mistaken for holding spirits -- only, if its liquor it's both homemade and a deep, crystalline purple.

With a careful prod of his finger, Yves pushes the snap-topped rubber-rimmed glass bottle across the counter and towards Gina... In silence.

Breakfast is served. Mohawk brings her eggs, bacon and grits and sets them down without a by your leave and then takes off. Genevieve calls out, her voice not very loud. "Thank yoou." But Mohawk has already moved on, his phone in hand. She glances down at her plate and picks up a piece of bacon, crunching into it as she observes Yves with his bottle, watching him slide it toward Gina. She dips the bacon into her grits, takes another bite and does some eavesdropping herself. "I hope the gummies don't kill you, I think you'll be safe though. I already kind of tested them on another person, and she seems to be quite alive and happy. All the same, leave me something fun in your will." She picks up her fork and digs into her eggs then, time to stuff face before talking more.

Gina gives Yves a momentary, narrow-eyed look before she picks up the bottle, uncapping it and wafts whatever is in the bottle towards her. The contents do make her eyebrows rise, "Pungent. Not really a breakfast food, though." She notes..before she tilts the bottle, letting the smallest dollop collect on a pinky before she puts it in her mouth, tasty the syrup. Both brows rise. "Hmm." The bottle is closed, given back towards Yves. "Not bad."

If the description of killer-gummies troubles Yves, none of that surfaces on his expression -- instead she gives Genevieve's grit-dipping a swift glance, before his attention is turned to Gina entirely as she surveys whatever-the-hell he's given her.

When the bottle is pushed back towards him, Yves stops it and slowly pushes it back in her direction, "Not bad at all -- so imagine, if you will, its future elevation: hemp milk, double espresso and a touch of that goodness..."

Is he describing how to make a latte? Yves smiles briefly at Gina - secretive, lopsided, and brief. He looks away almost immediately -- looking over at Genevieve again, a hand reaching out and not touching hers, but laying flat near her plate. "I've forgotten your name," As if it were ever offered. Yves continues, tone dropped to something conspiratorial; "Mata? Marie-Madeleine-Marguerite? Monvoisin?..."

Genevieve is in her own little corner of the diner, content with her bacon, eggs and grits. She watches Gina taste whatever is in the bottle, eyebrows raised slightly, before she goes back to eating. Another glass of orange juice is dropped off haphazardly sometime while she's eating, and she salutes Mohawk with a fork instead of trying to chase him with a verbal thank you. She keeps a wary eye on the bustle of the diner as she continue to eat, probably hoping that her plate doesn't get taken away if she takes her eyes off of it. When Yves places his hand near her plate she almost grabs at it, but realizes that he's not serving here so she's safe. "Genevieve. Genevieve Dupuis. It's a pleasure to meet you.." She trails off, obviously waiting for him to introduce himself as well.

A cop car pulls up outside the diner, and a couple of uniformed officers climb out. To be perfectly accurate, it's an unmarked cop car. Black charger, bull bars mounted on the front, black rims. But it's obviously a cop car. Both men are armed, and chatting in low voices as they push the door open; a Hispanic man, older, and a big black guy who greets a couple of the waitstaff on his way in. Ruiz peels off to find them a spot to sit at a booth, which happens to be situated across a low divide from Genevieve's. He reaches down to lower the volume on his radio as he settles in, gaze skimming over the vaguely familiar face nearby.

Hey! The staff don't take plates away while you're eating! ...unless they don't like you. Like if you're a known poor tipper. Fear, Genevieve. The diner is run at teh whims of the waitstaff, not the people dining. Gina, however, gives a small snort at Yves's description, "Salespitch? You'd probably be better talking to Organic Pufferfish." A tilt of her head towards Genevieve, "Once it's clear she's not going to fall flat on her ass with her business." Acknowledge all possibilities, after all! She does recollect teh bottle when Yves doesn't take it back, "Might find some uses for this stuff in particular, though. Depending on who the fuck you are." The police officers arriving? That earns her attention briefly - but only briefly. Which, for those who know Gina's penchant for not caring about who walks in, probably says something.

"Genevieve?" Yves' eyebrows go up, and still leaning both elbows on the counter he moves to take his sunglasses off. What is he, shocked? He looks her over, like up until this moment Yves hadn't really been seeing Genevieve at all. Not at all offended by her plate-grabbing, if he even /notices/. "Dupuis... Dupuis."

Far-away tone, like Yves was trying to remember something... Instead, Yves glances side-on to Gina, giving her a bashful kind of smile at the assessment of usefulness of his wares and the question of who the fuck he is. Who is he? He's looking back to Genevieve.

"Of a well, as a water bearer... Here;" Yves drops his sunglasses on the counter and reaches out with both hands -- palms up, open, requesting Genevieve's hands perhaps, without at all grabbing for them. Before Yves can continue, he's momentarily distracted by Ruiz -- glimpsing at radio, his partner, the whole... Cop Vibe. Then, back to Genevieve. Yves smiles. "How do you feel about Aquarius', Genevieve?"

Merde. Genevieve recognizes one of the cops who walk in and her eyes narrow briefly, taking her attention away from Yves. When she looks back, Yves is reaching out with his hands and, with an amused look on her face, she places hers on top of his. "I suppose it depends, I'm a Taurus. Apparently I'm stubborn and passionate." She rolls her eyes and waits to see what trouble he's up to, not snatching her hands back yet. She does give a lingering, yearning look back at the remaining two piece of bacon that are begging for her attention. "You still haven't given your name, is it a secret then?" She asks, trying not to grin.

Cop Vibe is one way of putting it. But seeing as the pair are kitted out in black on black on black gear, duty rigs armed with a decent-sized, loaded firearm, and what looks like ballistic vests over top, it's a little more than a vibe. They are most definitely cops. The Hispanic one gives Yves a little up-and-down with his eyes. No smile in sight. His partner seems a little friendlier, and chit-chats with Gina while he's up there placing an order; chit-chat about the weather they're having, and compliments on her muffins. Not that they're her muffins, but. Ruiz, meanwhile, has his menu open and is perusing his options for lunch with a thoughtful expression.

Gina's attention is distracted by the PAYING CUSTOMERS, Yves. Oh snap! But while Gina is about a sociable as a porcupine, she does snark back something about the weather and the inevitability of someone getting trapped somewhere in the mud. Social butterfly Gina is not. But she does, with the air of someone patently forced to do so by society, gesture towards the hot sauce when the cop requests it. Points. Does not fetch it herself. Her attention goes to where Yves looks at Genevieve's palms with a vaguely scornful, vaguely indulgent expression.

"Aaaah," Certain level of secretive amusement in Yves' tone, although there's something almost teasing and almost, sad? About it? Weird. He's taken Genevieve's hands in her own -- just softly holding them for the moment -- taking in a breath, glimpsing over to Gina and her scorn. Unpaying Uncustomer Yves then shakes that overabundance of wheat-coloured hair, takes in a deep breath, and closes his eyes. Hmm. Is he a ne'er-do-well, or just cop-shy? Dreamy bastard keeps his eyes shut and away from tho two boys-in-black.

Reading Genevieve's palm in silence; tracing a finger over the lines in her left palm. Occasionally he makes a low humming noise or a chirp of interest, but ... zero attempt to give his name, even though she's prompted it. "...Is it stubborn, to be dedicated to the values we're passionate about? Oh, /oh/." His eyes open, and he gives her a surprised look. "Always digging - in earth, sure, but searching for something more than just your roots..." A playfulness in his expression, eyebrows raised. "Now what could -that- be for?" As if Yves already has an inkling.

Genevieve takes a deep breath, watching Yves read her palm. "I think it is stubborn, but I'm happy enough to be stubborn, it oft times yields interesting results." The look that Yves gets back when he glances up at her is wary amusement. "Well you're the one looking at the lines, why don't you tell me what it's for." She's being stubborn at the moment, avoiding looking over at the cop that she snapped at last time they met. She also still wants her bacon, but her hands are caught. She's not impolite enough to yank them away from Yves, she isn't starving after all. "Roots can be transplanted, perhaps that's what happening in this case, oui?"

Ruiz is probably accustomed to all kinds of looks. But mostly of the slightly nervous, pretend-he-isn't-there variety. Food decided on, his order is relayed by his partner, and the captain settles in to check a few messages on his cell phone. Occasionally, a look askance to the blonde fellow doing some hocus pocus with Genevieve's hand. Keeping tabs on what's going on, most like, though he doesn't seem overly concerned.

Yes. Yes, a whole lot of hocus and a bit of pocus - and Yves seems entirely comfortable and confident in his palmistry, keeping poor Genevieve's hand hostage as he goes over the lines there once again.

"There is a hunger that you won't satisfy with food, or with those wild cherry gummies, or the sweetness of even friends and the care you show them -- you're nurturing, Genevieve; the soil, the soul, but what about yourself, huh? When you open those doors of perception... Such -tension- here, right here, feel it? When we replant a life, it's necessary that trauma follows being uprooted; but strength can come from that, being frost-hardy and resilient--"

Yves' eyes have opened now, and it could be he gives Genevieve's hand a little squeeze - a look of concern, briefly flashing over his features as he looks at her... Then releases her hands -- leaning back, glancing away. Out across the diner; to Gina, to the kid with the mohawk and poor customer service, to the two cops doing their thing... Then back, not to Genevieve, but his own hands on the counter. Chipped nail polish glinting as he drums his fingers to an unheard beat, looks maudlin. "-but the question that arises, Genevieve: how do you /really/ feel, about how your new roots be effected by the terroir of this land?"

Genevieve reaches out for the bacon as she considers the man sitting in front of her, taking a bite and chewing slowly. "Oh, those gummies are never for me. I don't partake in my edibles, I rely solely on polite friends to give me an opinion." She finishes her piece of bacon, shifting on her stool as she reaches for her orange juice. She's trying to look casual about Yves' words, her eyes on his face as she takes a long drink from her glass. She sets it down and rests her chin on her palm. "I remain optimistic about rooting here, despite some of the stories that I've heard." She shrugs a shoulder, looking suddenly shy. "Do you.." She gestures to his hands vaguely, offering him a brief smile. "Do you do this reading thing often?" She pushes her plate away, eschewing the rest of her food for now.

Ruiz's food has arrived, in the meantime, along with his buddy's. The pair of cops dig in, keeping the banter between them light in between mouthfuls. It's entirely possible that the mood of the diner shifts slightly while they're seated smack in the middle of the action like that. Though neither seems to be overly nosy about the goings on of the place; even the Hispanic one looks to be leaving Genevieve and Yves to their own devices for the most part, seeing as nothing untoward appears to be happening.

Nope; nothing untoward here! Yves' finger stop drumming against the countertop, and he glances side-on towards Genevieve -- eyeing the bacon at first, then glimpsing up at her face as she finishes off that bit of her breakfast. There's no interruption or reply at first, although Yves does almost smile to her -- again, maudlin kind of expression there. At her gesture, Yves hands flip over - exposing his palms in a kind of, odd shrug-motion.

"Only when it's called for... You know, when I feel the substance of someone's story press up against the surface, striving to break on through..." Softly said, then Yves pauses for a long moment; just studying Genevieve's expression - something like concern filtering over his own --- and then it breaks, and Yves turns suddenly; leaning back on the counter stool as he looks over to two two cops; addressing, of all people, Ruiz in tone that's both jovial and conversational; "What do /you/ say, huh? To all them stories people spread about town -- what's the latest word on the street, Officer?"

When Yves speaks to Ruiz, Genevieve finally turns to look in his direction. Residual annoyance from the last time they met flit in her expression before she tries for a smile. "Officer, it's nice to see you again." Obviously a lie, but a polite one. She keeps a hand around her orange juice, fingertips tapping at the side of the glass. "If this is a form of busking that I'm unfamiliar with, let me know, I'm happy enough to tip you for your services." She meets one of the looks that Yves aims at her with a smile of her own, polite enough without being overly warm.

Gina has been just off to the side, watching the reading and occasionally snacking on graham crackers... very much as if she's observing a show. Really, exchange graham crackers for popcorn and you have the right air to what she's been doing. She gives a small little smirk at Genevieve's offer to tip, "Pepper, Tal, I'm going on break." She calls out towards Pepper and Tal (Mr. Gangly Mohawk and Blonde Androgynous). Both of them throw their boss dirty looks - but RESIGNED dirty looks - while Gina whips herself up one of her favorite things: a milkshake, which she then takes with her to lean against the counter and continue watching the show.

Ruiz looks up from the burger he was about to take a bite out of. Mouth still open, brows furrowing at the question out of left field. His buddy, thankfully, pipes up with, "Some of it's true, most of it's just small town gossip, sir. You know how it is." Not like he seems willing to divulge which is which, mind. The Hispanic cop resumes taking a bite out of his burger, knuckles dragging through his beard absently as if to ensure he hasn't left any ketchup behind. "Good afternoon, Miss Dupuis," he greets Genevieve after a moment. He remembers her name, anyway. He doesn't appear annoyed with her in return, but nor does he smile really. Just a brief flick of dark eyes over a sip of his coffee.

"I wouldn't dream of accepting any, Genevieve -- thank you, for letting me sense a story; that's reward enough." Yves smiles lazily at her, then glances over towards Gina -- interest piqued by the milkshake making. "Hey, what's the odds on me getting one of them vanilla 'shakes with a touch of something like peanutbutter and honey?..."

Before he can press Gina for more of an order, Yves gets distracted by Ruiz's partner giving him a very, ah, official answer. From Yves? This garners a soft chuckle and nod, like he does - in fact - know how it is...

A beat, then Yves leans to the side again -- speaking in a low, concerned tone to Genevieve, "You alright, there?" First indication that the blonde hipster kid is anything less than 100% chill. He worried? Whatever the case, he remains focused on her for the moment.

Genevieve glances away from Ruiz to smile at Yves. "Been better, been worse." She confides quietly, picking up her glass and raising it over her head. "Another please." She calls out, she sees Mohawk roll his eyes, so odds are, she'll get orange juice some time in the near future. She pulls her purse up on her lap, digging around inside to pull out a small tube of lip gloss. She applies some, and then drops it back into her purse. "Are you from these parts?" She asks Yves, before she leans in to nudge him playfully. "Also, are you cursed with not having a name, or.." She glances toward the cops, perhaps he doesn't want to give it in front of them. Anything is possible.

Ruiz is seated at a booth near Genevieve's, opposite what looks to be his partner; a big black guy currently slurping a milkshake. The Hispanic one has a coffee in one hand and his cell phone in the other, clearly off duty at the moment, though the pair of them are outfitted in full blacks. Armed, and bulked up with tactical vests over top. Ruiz watches the brunette with the French accent a moment or two more, then returns his attention to a text message that's come in, with a soft snort of amusement.

Dahlia pushes her way into the diner, phone to her ear, raking a hand through her hair. A touch of concern lingering in her eyes as she listened to whomever was on the other end. "And you really think it'll help?" Sounding skeptical. "Even so I don't-" She pauses mid sentence as she takes note of all who are there. Gaze lingering on Ruiz for a longer moment, then to the familiar face of Genevive and the likely vaguely familiar face of Gina. "Let me think about it and call you back." Then she's hanging up and stuffing her phone back into her pocket. A pair of hip-hugging black jeans and a crimson red halter top are today's attire. Either getting off work or heading in soon. First stop, the counter, looking to Mohawk. "Can I get a burger, to go. Everything but onions."

Gina gets an upnod. Then she moves over towards Genevive's booth, not sitting down but leaning up against the side of the booth that the woman was sitting on. "Hey girlie, and stranger." A flash of a smile to Genevive and Yves before those emerald eyes slid over to Ruiz again. "Did you get your lunch?" A little wiggle of fingers in a wave to his partner whom she also didn't know.

Gina, after giving an upnod towards Dahlia, takes her milkshake, smirks at Yves and just.... wanders with her milkshake towards the back.

Yves doesn't seem entirely convinced that Genevieve... What? Is better or worse? That subtle tone of concern remains as he listens to her, watches her put on lipgloss like he's never seen anybody do that before. What an alien. It's only after he's nudged that Yves' expression shifts from morose concern to reluctant amusement. A soft shrug paired with a little elbow-nudge back. "If you need to ask if I'm from 'round these parts, what's your intuition telling you?..."

Said with a lopsided smile, then Yves grabs his sunglasses -- slipping them into the collar of his shirt, with his other hand digs an old leather wallet out from his back pocket. Leaning over the counter as if to whisper to Genevieve, he seems a touch surprised when Dahlia addresses him as Stranger -- responding by giving her a wink and a finger-snap that ends in a thumbs up. Is that a hello? An acknowledgement that perhaps -that- /is/ his name?

What it's not is something that gets Gina's attention. The blond stranger oophs, making a proper pained sound as the purple haired proprietress hightails it outta there without giving Yves his requested milkshake. Wallet is re-pocketed. Empty hand presses against the centre of his chest as if his heart's been broken, and Yves just ... turns and walks out the diner without a single word -- leaving nothing but the scent of lavender in his wake.

Genevieve is trying to pull money out of her purse to pay for her breakfast, her eyes on Yves still as she waits for an introduction. When Dahlia makes her way into the diner, she gets a cheery wave and then when she approaches, a bright smile. "Dahlia, it's nice to see you. You look pretty tonight." She finally manages to fish out a twenty dollar bill, sliding it near her plate with the ticket that was placed near her when the orange juice was dropped off. She wrinkles her nose at Yves and smirks. "It's telling me that you're not, but neither am I." She watches him walk out and shakes her head, smirking. "Probably for the best, honestly."

Ruiz's partner gives Dahlia a little up-and-down with his eyes, then slants the Mexican cop a suggestive grin. The older man snorts softly and finishes his sip of coffee before giving the dark-haired girl a little nod. He's not technically on duty, but he's close enough to it to apparently temper his responses. His dark eyes linger on her a moment, and then he returns to his food while the big guy opposite him regales him with a story that sounds a little too embellished to be true.

"Thanks hon. Just got off work. Didn't make anyone upchuck. And didn't really waste anything tonight. So yay? Tips weren't even half bad." Though what Dahlia currently lacked in Drink Mixing skills she made up for in flirting and looking pretty. She was fairly determined to have the drink mixing be the main reason people tipped her though. Slow and steady. Sliding into the seat vacated by Yves, "He's cute. Though his hair is a little long." She mused. A wink is tossed to Ruiz's partner. "Good. " Is what's offered to Ruiz at his nod. She takes out her phone again and sends a quick text. "Thanks again for last night Genevieve. It was a lot of fun, I'm looking forward to dinner." Setting the phone aside and focusing on her table mate. "How's your day been?"

Genevieve picks up her phone and glances down at it as a text comes in. She chokes and gives Dahlia a wide eyed look before she starts to laugh. She places her hand on her torso to keep herself from bending over, a tear leaking out of the corner of her eye. "Oh you're welcome, Dahlia. My day has been wonderful, so far. Lots of cleaning, getting things moved around. Thank you for asking." She shoots a quick look at Ruiz and then back to Dahlia. "Just got off work, what trouble are you going to be getting yourself into?"

One of the cops' radios crackles right about then with a request from dispatch. And by the sound of it, it's important. Ruiz finishes off his burger quickly, dabs his mouth and beard with his napkin, and eases back in his seat to speak into his radio briefly. "Unit eight-five, ten eight. Yes, we'll be enroute in ten." He gives his partner a little upnod, and the big guy groans as he scrambles to collect the rest of his food to go. "I will see you later," the Hispanic one offers to Dahlia with a little smile. Genevieve gets a polite nod as well, and then the pair are headed for the door.

There's a sparkle of amusement in Dahlia's eyes as Genevieve laughed. "Glad to hear it. I'm looking forward to the opening. " A little shrug of her shoulders when asked about trouble. "Oh I don't know. Mom's still at the hospital. Her doctor wants to me to okay another experimental thing but...I'm not made of money. You know? And her insurance isn't that great. So I might just have them discharge her tomorrow and I'll bring her back home." A furrow of her brows with a frown but then it was gone. "So I could get up to any kind of trouble I want. With anyone I want." The big guy gets another look, but then they're getting ready to leave and her attention returns to Ruiz. "Stop by the club some time to say hi." She offering him a smile too. Then it's back to Genevieve. "Or maybe I'll give you the puppy dog eyes and ask for another bath bomb." Dahlia laughed. "How bout you? Anything fun planned?"

Genevieve is tapping at her phone when the cops get up to leave, and she glances up nodding as they move to leave. She smiles over at Dahlia, getting to her feet as she puts money down near her plate. "Are you getting your food to go? Would you like to come over and chat?" She gestures toward the door, soft laughter spilling from her lips. "I'm just going home to clean up the boxes and put books away. Eli is at home getting another load of.. books, clothes? Who really knows at this point." She picks up her purse, shoulders it and glances toward the kitchen. "C'mon, we can look through the bath bombs and see if there are any you'd like to try for me."