2019-07-17 - Trailer Talk

Tyler is sitting at the counter on one of the stools. He looks a little tired. He's wearing the typical uniform of a firefighter who has likely just got off duty - khaki cargo pants with a tight navy blue shirt sporting the Gray Harbor Fire Department logo over the left side of his chest. There's a diet coke in front of him, and he's reading a book that sits on the counter in front of him. He's not very far in it, and he doesn't look like he's enjoying it, from the look on his face.

Must be a first responder type of evening, in walks Evangeline in her uniform, black on black with handcuffs making noise with every step she takes. She upnods toward Tyler, pulling out her phone to take a peek at it before she stuffs it back into her pocket. She leans against the counter, eyes the guy behind it, his mohawk is blue today. "Order to go, hashbrowns, eggs and bacon." She pulls a wallet from her back pocket, pulls out a card and sets it down so her order can be charged. She glances aside at Tyler and then leans into his personal space, tilting the book a bit so she can get a look at the title. "You look bored."

On the other hand, the next person to pass through those doors isn't a first responder at all. Not even a second responder, although he might be able to fix up a car after an accident as a fourth or fifth responder. A red hoodie's draped over his shoulders, worn open over a white tank-top, both with some oil stains here and there - matching his jeans, which have the same. Bearing the look of someone who needs caffeine badly, Harlan strolls along up to the counter as well, sliding a hip onto a stool a bit down from the cop and firefighter. "Coffee," he asks plaintively of the mohawk'd man behind that counter, "Black as midnight and sugar'd to shit. Something that'd give a ferret a heart attack."

Tyler looks up, recognizing the police officer. They don't really know one another, but he knows they've worked some incidents together, so he offers a little smile. The book is Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti by Genevieve Valentine. "Is it that obvious?" he asks, and then sighs, shoulders slumping just a little. "I hate reading. You on your way in or finishing up a shift?" He looks past her a moment at the newly arrived Harlan, and he smirks, amused.

"You look as if you want to throw it, honestly." Evangeline sidles to the side, not wanting to crowd Tyler, the title of the book not sparking any recognition in her. "You hate reading, don't read. Or, if you are that bored, get audible. I listen to them while I do filing things, and yeah, finishing a shift." She glances at Harlan when he walks in, taking in his stained shirt, expression and his words. "Poor ferret." She murmurs, flitting her fingers toward the mohawk. "Coffee sounds good, actually. I'll take a cup with a little less sugar, and some cream."

"I told a teacher back in high school that I hated reading once," Harlan says before thinking about it, pausing in startlement at himself that he's interrupted someone else's conversation-- a beat, and then he rolls onward with it because he can't exactly stop now. "It didn't buy me a lot of credit with her, let me tell you. I swear it just made her give me twice as much reading homework as anyone else." A menu's slid into his fingers, and he turns it over, frowning at it in thought.

Tyler agrees with Evangeline, "I kind of do want to throw it. I'm only reading it to impress someone I like. It's their favorite book and I thought... You know." He shrugs, "It's turning out to not be as easy as I thought it would be." Nodding at Harlan, he agrees, "I did my best to not talk to teachers. It was easier to just blend in." He takes a drink of his soda, and as he sits it back on the counter, he admits, "I'm not really familiar with audible. What is it? Is that a computer thing? Because I don't own a computer..."

Evangeline glances at the book and then at Tyler's face. "See if there is a 'for dummies' version. Then you can discuss it without having to read it." She takes a seat, leaning in as her coffee is delivered. "I liked school, up until high school." She tilts her hand back and forth as she smirks at Tyler. "Could be a phone thing, got a cell phone? Please tell me that you have a cell phone." She glances over at Harlan and shakes her head back and forth. "She probably thought that she was helping you or making you into something. I like reading, but I have to be pretty bored." She takes a drink of her coffee, grimaces and then sets it down. "Yikes."

Harlan's fingers curl around the mug of coffee set down, not ordering anything to eat-- just the coffee, it seems. Then he's craning his neck to squint down the counter's length, "Whoa, you don't own a computer? What-- like, you've got a smartphone at least, right, man? Everyone's got one of those." A questioning look to Evangeline, then back to the firefighter.

Tyler nods, "I mean, yeah, sure, I have phone. Just, no need for a computer is all. "I didn't mind school, but I didn't love it. It was just something I had to do and now it's over and whatever." He smiles, "Sorry, I'm uh... I'm Tyler," he offers to them both.

"Evangeline." She aims a suspicious look at Tyler, eyes narrowed slightly. "How in the world do you get along without a computer? I find a use for mine at least four times a day at home, not to mention all fucking day at work." She glances at her coffee, tries another sip and then makes a face again. "How do people drink this stuff?" She sets it down and her order is placed in front of her. Instead of taking it and leaving, she opens up one of the styrofoam containers and picks at her hashbrowns. Let me tell you, it makes the mohawk guy look miffed.

"That was pretty much school for me, too, I always knew what I'd be doin'," Harlan admits with an easy shrug of one shoulder, bringing the mug up to his lips and taking a slow sip of the hot, dark, sugary horror that lurks in his cup, his gaze hooding a bit. "You might wanna add more cream. Most people don't like it that dark-- Harlan, by the way, since we're introducing ourselves."

Tyler laughs, "I don't know. I just never needed one, I guess. Not after school, anyway. Maybe I don't miss it because I don't know what I'm missing? Which is fine, by the way. I like my life pretty alright the way it is." Looking at Harlan, he asks, "Yeah? So what is it that you ended up doing, Harlan? Mechanic?"

"My pap and my dad were both cops, so they wanted me to be a ballerina. That didn't stick, obviously." Evangeline gestures down at her belt, gun, handcuffs taser.. " I followed along after my brother, just felt like the right thing to do." She reaches out for the creamer, drowning her coffee in it. It brings the drink right to the brim of her cup so she has to take a furtive sip before she adds more sugar. It's not really coffee anymore. "Look okay now?" She asks Harlan, gesturing to her cup.

"Close," Harlan replies cheerfully, "After my old man's ticker gave out a few years back, I have the pleasure of being the owner, manager, and general handyman at Huckleberry Mobile Homes - when you're looking for place to settle down, look for the Huckleberry name." The latter spoken in a radio commercial voice before he trails off into chuckling, "So yeah, that's me, you two? Well, kinda obvi-- oh c'mon." He looks to the cup, then Evangeline, "He doesn't own a computer and you don't know how to make coffee. Am I being Punk'd?"

Tyler actually bristles when Harlan mentions the mobile home park. He grits his teeth, and stares at his coke for a moment. "I'm good where I live, thanks," he responds flatly to the advertisement. He finishes off the coke and returns his gaze to the other two. "It's not that weird to not own a computer. I promise, I'm not some freak."

"I don't drink coffee." Evangeline stares at Harlan before she lets out a laugh. "I don't know, I've only been in town a few weeks. Been staying in some...hotel type place. I should really start looking for an apartment or something." She glances at Tyler when he seems to get pissed about the mobile home park, and then back to Harlan with her eyebrows raised. "So uh.. what goes on at this trailer park that garners that kind of reaction?" Subtle, she is not. "I mean, I'd look into living there, but if it's a bad barrio..." She trails off, feigning interest in her coffee.

Harlan's brows both twitch upwards at that reaction. "Uh... well I wasn't actually suggesting it, it was a... okay, man," he finally lets drop, giving Evangeline a helpless look and raising his free arm and shoulder in a shrug, "I mean, it's not exactly Bayside but it's not usually that bad. I swear, I don't have my dead mother sitting in a rocking chair in an upstairs window. I don't even have an upstairs."

Tyler huffs a little, shaking his head. "Sorry. It's me. I just..." He rolls his eyes, "I grew up there. My parents weren't... great... So, I just... You know, I'd be quite happy to live the rest of my life and never have to go back there for anything." He pulls a few dollars from his pocket and puts them on the counter. "Only in town a few weeks?" he asks of Evangeline. "Where you from?"

"Shit, be mad at your parents. Don't be mad at this poor man and his trailers." Evangeline is joking a little bit, giving Harlan a quick look of amusement before she nods at Tyler. "Only in town for a few weeks, I'm originally from Miami." She finally got a fork off of mohawk and she's eating her breakfast with gusto now. She plucks the salt shaker up and shakes some on her potatoes. "So it's not a bad place? Got any vacancies?"

"Yeah, man, don't shoot the landlord," Harlan agrees with a joking tone himself, although he gives Tyler a sympathetic look, "My parents weren't super great either, so hey, I'll try my best not to - you know - let any of the trailers catch on fire." He takes another sip of the black ooze that he's calling a beverage, motioning with it, "There's a few lots and trailers open, yeah. Miami, huh? What brought you up to -this- shithole town?"

"My mom was killed when our trailer burned down and my father's in prison," Tyler notes dryly to Evangeline and Harlan both, though he's not mad. "So, you're our very own Miami Vice. Nice. Though, I don't understand why you'd come here of all places. Florida has better surfing. And the water's warmer, too." He hops off the stool, preparing to leave, and smiles. "I'm sure I'll see you around a lot more on the job, Evangeline." He nods at Harlan as well, "Nice to meet you, Harlan."

"Needed a change of pace. This is a very very large change of pace." Evangeline waves her fork toward Tyler when he announces his exit, offering him a brief smile. "Nice ot meet you Tyler, have a good night." She absolutely isn't going to touch the fire and father comment. No good could come out of that. "Miami Vice, I'm underdressed and I left my eighties in my other pants." She glances down at Harlan and smirks. "Is it really that much of a shit hole?"

At the mention of the fire, and prison, Harlan's eyes widen a little. "Shit. Wellington? I remember that, that was... yeah, that was bad, shit, I'm sorry man," he grimaces, raising his coffee cup, "Good meeting you, anyway, see you around." Back to Evangeline, "I was born here, I'm contractually required to call it a shit hole."

Tyler chuckles at Evangeline's comments about the Vice. "Keep your eighties on you at all times, Evangeline," he notes, helpfully. He nods at Harlan, a little more seriously at the recognition, "Yeah," he confirms. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, right?" He nods once more, and then offers a little wave of his hand, "Take it easy." With that, he heads out the door.

"Obviously you're going to have to teach me the rules, since I'm going to be staying for a while." Evangeline mentions to Harlan, her eyes following Tyler out the door, a frown on her face. "Now that is actually the backstory of a villan in the making. Keep an eye on that one." She glances from Harlan back down to her hash browns, forking up another bite. "Seriously though, I do need a place to stay, and I'm sure there are some stigma about trailer's, but I don't want to pay out of my ass for anything fancy."

After the door swings closed, Harlan shakes his head slowly. "Poor bastard," he mutters at the edge of his coffee mug as he takes another swallow of it, eyes closing as it goes down. "I remember that fire. I helped clean up the place after the police-- well. After everyone was done with it," he admits, opening his eyes before chuckling, "I mean, it's not great. It's a fuckin' trailer park, I'm not gonna glitz it up or anything. But it's not crawling with meth addicts, or anything."

"Tragedy like that changes a person." Evangeline tries her coffee again, still not looking too thrilled about it. She closes her containers and pushes them aside, smirking as she glances back down at Harlan. "I have another shift in the morning, so I should get back to the place I'm staying so I can attempt sleep." She gets to her feet, folding her arms over her chest as she studies him. "I don't really need glitz or any of that shit, just a dry place where I can put my stuff. Can I come by tomorrow and take a look around?"

"Yeah, sure, I... hold on," Harlan pats down a few pockets before coming up with a battered leather wallet, digging out a dog-eared business card to offer over with a grin, "Come on by, give me a call, I'll show you around the free lots."

Evangeline takes the card, gazing down at it for a few moments before she turns it over. "You fucked up, gave me your number. Now I'm gonna text you too." She salutes him with the card before she tucks it in the back pocket where her wallet lives. "Thanks. Hopefully I won't regret it." She picks up her bag, swinging it as she heads for the door. "Hey, have a good night, Harlan!"

Harlan lets out a bark of laughter at that, sliding the wallet away and then raising his mug in an easy salute - offering a playful wink, "Anytime, chica. Good meeting you, hope the rest of your night goes better than your coffee."