2019-07-11 - It's Pizza Time

Gray Harbor is the kind of place someone can go to disappear in. Quiet, small(ish), private. All the things you could want if you don't want anyone you know bothering you. Which is why Tyrone Grier decided to move HERE once he was let out of the VA Rehab facility in Seattle. Far enough away that no one will bump into him, but still close enough where he can head back if he really needs to.
Having just gotten settled in to a small apartment of his own, Tyrone had gone out to do some exploring of the town. There was a lot to see, really, when you're brand new, and he'd spent the better part of the day riding the bus and sight seeing. But now, he was hungry, and Pew Pew Pie had been given in several recommendations. So he's rolled in to the front door and is presently looking around, taking in the sights and trying to figure out where he needs to line up to order food.

Behind the blonde who is looking at the menu currently is a pretty good place to start in line. With a hip leaned against the wall as she waits for the person at the front to finish up so she can move up in line. Looking a little tired, if the circles beneath her eyes are anything to go by, Lyric stares almost blankly at the menu, not even noticing when the line moves up by one. Lost in thought somewhere, she doesn't even register immediately when the person at the counter pays for a take out pizza and then it's her turn. Pretty sharp, this one.

Ah, yes. A line leading to a menu board. Definitely a good place to start. And so Tyrone wheels himself over there and parks behind Lyric. Where he waits. And waits. And, since the clerk at the counter doesn't seem inclined to address her, he finally does so, hiimself. "Ma'am, were you planning on ordering anything?" Tyrone asks politely, loudly enough that it will hopefully get her attention, given the fact that he's speaking up to her.

There's a little jump when she's addressed, but Lyric is the one looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's been a really, super, terribly, really long day. And yesterday wasn't any better." Turning with a half smile, she then drops her eyes and ohs, "I'm really indecisive, if you want to go ahead, you're welcome to. I'm not sure what I want yet." Stepping aside a little she leaves him plenty of room to get to the counter should he want. "I don't know if I like the name of this place yet. I think it should be 3.14."

Tyrone offers Lyric a small smile when she moves out of his way, and he was ABOUT to leave it at that, but then she continues talking. 3.14? Tyrone looks a little confused for a second, but it hits him after a couple of seconds. "I don't think that would reflect the arcade portion of the business, though," he offers her. He's about to order for himself, like, he literally inhaled and was bout to speak, when he stops and looks back at Lyric. "How do you feel about hamburger and bacon? I don't know if I could eat a whole pie but I definitely want more than one slice, so we could split," he offers the young lady.

"Yeah I guess there is the arcade portion but somehow calling my pizza pew pew pie doesn't sit well with me." Lyric could be completely joking about it though. The menu board is given another once over until he makes the offer. "I like hamburger and bacon, that sounds really good. How about I get the drinks?" Fishing in her pocket, she pulls out a small wad of bills and starts straightening them. All ones. Smoothing them, she glances over to the soda fountain. "I want Fanta Strawberry." Then she looks expectantly to the guy. "I'm Lyric by the way," a smile given. "It'll be cool not eating alone."

"Tyrone," he responds, nodding. "And yeah ... I'm pretty useless at fountains, so I'd appreciate a hand. Cherry coke would be fine for me," he says. He then turns to put in their order with the clerk, completely ignoring the bills Lyric had been smoothing as he hands over his bank card. "And I've got it. Harder to split the payment, anyway. You can get me back some other time," he tells the woman. Once the food has been ordered and the cups given, Tyrone turns and rolls towards one of the tables, first pulling a chair out a small way, and then pulling a chair out and turning it towards another table. ... did he just pull out a chair for Lyric?

"Oh, thank you." Lyric tells him when he just pays for everything, surprise registering on her features as well as a margin of relief. She deftly slides the bills back into her pocket and walks over to get the drinks while he finalizes things at the counter. When she comes back with the two drinks she notices the chair and gratefully slips down into it before placing his drink before him, along with a straw, then doing the same for herself. "Thank you, Tyrone. You must be new around here. I know most everyone since I've lived here all my life. I'm kinda sure I'd remember meeting you."

"Yeah ... I actually just got the keys to my apartment yesterday. So yeah, you could say I'm new," Tyrone responds with a chuckle. He settles in at the table and then puts the parking brakes on his wheelchair, adjusting his seating position. "This place seems pretty alright. Nice and quiet. Do you like it here?" he asks, taking a pull from his straw.

When most would give the pat answer, Lyric hesitates and contemplates what answer she does give him to his question. "Uh.." she begins hesitantly. "Sometimes it's quiet. There's always new people in town. A lot say they were just somehow drawn here. I've always lived here and dreamed of getting away from it, but really I think there's no leaving. It's like the Hotel California or something. Those who leave always come back. I like it, it's home and all, but it's.." different "umm.. it's Gray Harbor, there's no other explanation really."

Well. /That/ explanation quirks Tyrone's eyebrow. Certainly didn't say anything like that in the brochures. He studies Lyric's face for several seconds, then hrms and furrows his brow as he considers. "Hotel California, huh? That's an old rock song, right?" he asks, trying to place the reference. He doesn't get TOO long to think about it, though, as it's only a few minutes before their pizza is delivered. He looks it over and waits, again politely, for Lyric to take the first piece before he reaches for one. Somebody has really good manners! "Well this looks pretty tasty," he comments.

"Everything in this town is an old rock song. At least by our bar's standards. It's about all there is to do, go drinking and dancing." Lyric's eyes lower to his chair and she shifts a little, "I mean. There's lots to do, just gotta find it mostly." When the pizza arrives she bobs her head and agrees, "Looks really good. I'm hungry." Then she realizes he was waiting on her and she reaches for the serving wedge. Good manners win out and she serves him a couple then herself a couple, just like she'd seen done enough times. "Thank you, again."

"No problem, miss," Tyrone says, changing the ma'am to a 'miss' now that he's spoken to her a little. The glance at his chair doesn't go unnoticed and he upnods. "I like dancing. Just depends on the music." When he's served, he bobs his head, saying, "Thanks." And then he picks up his slice and starts eating. Apparently, though, his manners don't extend to not talking with his mouth full. "So what do you do?"

Lyric squints a little, "How do you dance?" Not afraid to ask something she doesn't know. Much better to have facts than speculation in her own thoughts. Lifting her own slice she takes a bite out of it, taking great pleasure at the stringy cheese. Smiling after she chews and swallows, she goes about answering. "Jack of all trades, master of none. I do whatever pays my bills. Waitressing sometimes, babysitting sometimes. Things like that. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm very light on my feet. Couldn't you tell?" Tyrone jokes, pausing for a moment to make sure Lyric has a chance to understand the joke while he smirks. "And I don't do anything, yet. I got a medical discharge and get disability pay from the Marines because I was injured in combat. So I sit on my butt and they send me a check every month. Plus, I've got almost a year in backpay saved up because I was in the hospital doing rehab, so they held my checks," he explains.

It takes her a moment but Lyric blushes just a little before she smiles, understanding. "Dancing is fun, but I like a lively beat." Another few bites of her pizza and listening to him she gives a hesitant nod. "Do you tell all the girls about your cash on hand? It's probably not safe," she teases and chides him gently at the same time. "Do you go to the VA Hospital then? In Seattle?"

"Oh, it ain't cash on hand. Like I said, they held the checks. I haven't gotten them all, yet," Tyrone says. Then, he chuckles and smirks again. "Plus, I'm a Marine, miss. I'm certainly not afraid of you or any other girls you may know." He eats some more pizza then, and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm done at the hospital. Did all my rehab and stuff. But, my doc and stuff is there, which is why I decided to move here. Still close enough that if I really need to, I can get back there."

"Some things even guns can't kill." Lyric says mysteriously but shudders as if that thought frightens even herself. "I'm glad you're all finished with rehab and all. Will you always be in a wheelchair from now on?" Again with the open inquisitiveness. "So are you going to work here or just keep being at home?"

At Lyric's comment about the possible ineffectiveness of guns, Tyrone just chuckles and smirks. "You're right, there are. That's why God made Marines," he responds. If there were more present, there definitely would have been a robust 'hoo-ah' following such a statement. "And yeah, unless they figure out how to knit nerves back together and repeair spinal cords, no more tap-dancing for me. So, I have no idea what I'm gonna do next. That's why I'm here. Take some time, maybe figure something out. But I wanted to find someplace laid back where I wasn't gonna have a bunch of people trying to demand I 'get back on the horse,' so to speak. Because it wasn't no damn horse to begin with."

"I think being a Marine is something you're very proud of and I'm glad you got to do that." Lyric tells him quietly. There's a few more bites of pizza as she finishes off her second slice and seems to be stopping there. That strawberry drink though, her focus is all over that! "Does it hurt? I mean the parts that are paralyzed, do they hurt?" Full of questions, this one. "Oh don't worry. I'd never force you to do anything you didn't want to."

"Of course I'm proud," Tyrone says, shrugging since that should have been obvious. When Lyric has more questions about his disability, Tyrone shrugs and undoes his breaks, backing away from the table a little so she can see. "It's a complete injury, so I can't actually feel them at all, anymore. Now, I DO get phantom pains every once in a while, and I take medication to keep my leg muscles from spasming. But it doesn't hurt or anything. Have you ever had your arm or hand or something fall /totally/ asleep? Like, past pins and needles? It's the same thing."

"You sound proud. I just guess I've never really done anything to be proud of, myself." Lyric shrugs a little at the confession, not meaning it any particular way. Lowering her eyes to his legs she nods a little. "I think I know kind of what you mean, but I don't know what I'd do if they just felt asleep all the time. Forever." The drink is sipped from and she asks. "Are you on medical marijuana or anything? That's a thing in this state, but I guess you already knew that being from Seattle and all."

Tyrone laughs at the medical marijuana question and shakes his head. "Nope. May be legal in the state, but it's still super taboo in the military. Nope, I take Uncle Sam Certified Prescription Drugs, good for what ailes ya and keeping the economy going," he says, sounding very sarcastic about that last part. "I have a whole slew of pills I take, now. Muscle spasms, bladder spasms, pain, anti-depressants, probiotics, cranberry .... I'm almost my own dispensary."

"You do sound kind of like a pharmacy but they all sound necessary. I'm glad at least all of your medical things are taken care of. Especially with this required insurance stuff." Lyric finishes off her drink and slides the cup back onto the table. "Do you want a refill on your drink or anything? I can go get us one." It was to-go cups after all, they could take some when they left.

"Oh. ... nah, I'm good," Tyrone says, noticing that the food and the drinks have all gone. Really, there wouldn't be a way for him to /carry/ the to-go cup if he got a refill, anyway, so it's all the better that he's not thirsty any longer. "... did you get enough to eat?" he asks as he starts to clean up after himself. "I don't mind springing for dessert or something if you're still hungry."

Of course that never crosses Lyrics mind, him not being able to carry it, but she also doesn't refill her own. "I had plenty. The food and the company was great. I haven't had that much fun eating in a long time." She doesn't bother getting to her feet yet, but remains where she has been seated since she joined him earlier. "You know, you can just call me Lyric instead of ma'am or anything .

At being called out for calling her 'miss,' Tyrone blinks, and then looks rather sheepish about it. "I'm sorry .... You get ... I dunno. Used to? A certain way of speaking? In the corps, if you don't address people with sir or ma'am when you're speaking to them, it's your ass. So ... yeah. Sorry?" he offers, shrugging his shoulders up. The fact that she doesn't get up or get ready to leave or anything seems to surprise Tyrone, though, and he seems unsure of what to say next. "So ... uh ... it was really nice to meet you, Lyric," he offers, holding his hand out for her to shake.

His explanation for calling her Miss is met with a smile. "If you're not comfortable calling me Lyric you don't have to." Not meaning to be awkward. Though he actually does call her Lyric and she smiles, offering her hand out in return, taking his and shaking it. "It was nice meeting you too, Tyrone. This town is small enough, I know our paths will cross again. I look forward to it." A smile and a shaking of hands then.