2019-07-28 - Coffee Conversation

Sunday morning, rain is (not) falling. But there are no covers to be stolen in the coffee shop at the moment, so Tyrone is presently sitting at a table near the door, coffee in hand, people-watching as folks come and go through the door. Thanks to the fact that it's already hot outside, he's presently wearing a tank top, showing off his rather impressive arms and shoulders. There are a /few/ benefits to being in a wheelchair!

It's early. And thankfully this one is getting off work. Dressed in jeans with a GHFD tshirt on, Fawn steps inside the coffee house, already looking to the front and the menu board there in hopes of getting the biggest drink with the largest shot of caffeine she can. As she reaches into her pocket to pull out her debit card, a bit of cash falls out to the ground next to where he sits in his chair.

Ever the vigilant one, Tyrone notices right away when Fawn drops some money. He moves slightly and leans down, picking it up. "Excuse me, ma'am," he says, holding the bill up between his fingers. "It looks like you maybe dropped this?"

Fawn turns upon hearing the comment, peering towards Tyrone as he holds up the money, "Hmm?" His words cause her to pat her pocket, then oh, "Yes.. Thank you." Her accent paints her as a local, the smile quick and relaxed as she steps closer to take the cash from him.

"No worries, ma'am. Terrible way to start the day, losing cash getting coffee," Tyrone responds, returning the smile pleasantly. "Good way to put a funk on the whole rest of the day."

Fawn chuckles, tucking the cash back into her pocket, "But it would teach me to keep better track of it, hmm?" A wry smile touches her lips at that, "And I could only wish I was starting my day. More like trying to stay awake long enough to get some errands done before ending my day." There's a line at the counter, so it doesn't hurt for her to linger and talk a little.

"... or just make you grumpy," Tyrone counters with a shrug. "Could always get a money clip or wallet or something, though. Little harder to lose, that way. And ... you work overnights?" Tyrone moves back to his seat at the table, then nods towards the line. "Don't let me keep you from your caffeine hookup, ma'am. I wouldn't wanna contribute to traffic accidents if you go running errands and fall asleep behind the wheel."

"Nah, not grumpy. Just figure someone else out there needed my $10 more than I did." It's certainly one way of looking at things. Fawn chuckles, glancing back to the line, then to him, "I did last night, covering a shift at the fire house. Don't always though." The comment is answered easily enough, a husky laugh soon to follow, "I'd hate to have to blame you for that.."

Tyrone nods and smirks a little. "Well, if you're donating, I'm sure I could find a use for it, ma'am," he responds. At the mention of covering a shift at the firehouse, though, Tyrone's eyebrows quirk upwards. "You're a fireman?" He sounds impressed by the notion.

"Oh now?" Fawn asks, still grinning, and will wait till after answering his last question before excusing herself briefly to go make an order for a large mocha, double shots of espresso added to it. "I was. I'm the Fire Marshal now, but I help the department out when they're short handed. Keeps me in the ballgame still." Not one to forget her training.

Tyrone nods, still seeming impressed by her profession. "Well that's cool. You gotta respect fireman. They're a lot like Marines. They're the only ones running TOWARDS the danger," he explains. "Takes a lot of guts."

Returning soon enough with her caffeine input, Fawn ahs, "So a Marine, hmm?" She doesn't seem to look to the chair, not that she's ignoring it either. Turned to face him, he might then notice the arm that's scarred, shown off by the tshirt's short sleeve, "I grew up in a family of fire fighters." Comes with the Underwood name.

Nodding, Tyrone moves and pushes the chair next to him out a little way, offering it to Fawn. "Yup," he responds, then grimaces a little. "Well, not anymore. I mean, once a Marine. But I'm not active, anymore, obviously," he says, shrugging helplessly a bit.

Offered the chair, Fawn will take it, gladly sinking down on it. "Once a Marine, yeah." She can agree with him there. "My father says the same about being a fireman. He's retired as well now, but.. that's just a word to him that doesn't mean much beyond he can't go riding in gear on the truck anymore."

"I feel ya," Tyrone agrees, nodding. "Yeah, there's a lot I can't do anymore. But, I'd still take my odds over any civilian, any day." He then reaches across the table, offering his hand for shaking. "I'm Tyrone, by the way."

"Didn't keep me from returning to work. Thankfully." A general gesture made to the scars on her arm. She reaches out to take his hand, offering it a shake, "Fawn. Nice to meet you, Tyrone." She is smiling a little, "I have a cousin who went Marines. He's stationed over in Okinawa, Japan right now, I think. At least he was the last time I talked to my aunt."

"What didn't keep you from returning to work?" Tyrone asks, confused. The gesture to her arm draws his attention, but ..., "Did you get caught in a fire or something?" Because he's not one to just assume. "I never went to Japan. I finished my first tour in Afghanistan and went back for a special assignment when I got shot, so. I hear Japan is nice, though."

"Getting burned, yeah. Part of the ceiling collapsed, trapped me before my brothers could get to me." Brother firefighters. "My dad was burned bad enough he couldn't return to duty." Fire is not a fun thing. Listening as he discusses his own tour, she hmms, nodding, "That's what my cousin says. He likes it, though he wants to get out of there." See some action, no doubt.

"Get out of ... the Marines? Or Japan? What's his MOS?" Tyrone asks, obviously interested. Apparently, talking about military stuff still excites him. "I'm sorry to hear about your accident, ma'am, but I'm glad you're okay. Sounds like it could have been a lot worse. At least you weren't badly disfigured or anything."

Fawn shakes her head, "Of Japan. Not the Marines. I can see Jimmy staying in till death do him part that arrangement between he and the Marines." That said, she hmms, "I am not exactly sure? " When he calls her ma'am, she waves it away, "Fawn, please. "

"Oh. ... why would he wanna get out of Japan? It seems like that would be a pretty awesome gig," Tyrone says, puzzled. When she calls him out for calling her ma'am, he grimaces and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Really hard to break the habit. ... I mean, Fawn. Sorry."

"He wants to do something more than just sit around?" Fawn answers with a shrug of her shoulder. "I haven't talked to him for a year or so beyond short emails here and there. He talks to my aunt more, of course." That said, she teases him grinning after a careful sip of her mocha, "It's okay. I was just teasing you."

Tyrone chuffs, smirking when Fawn says he wants to do more than just sit around. "You can tell him he's definitely doing more," he replies, a wry smirk on his face. "I was only ever stationed at Pendleton and Afghanistan. We were all pretty happy when Obama started pulling us out. Ot

Tyrone chuffs, smirking when Fawn says he wants to do more than just sit around. "You can tell him he's definitely doing more," he replies, a wry smirk on his face. "I was only ever stationed at Pendleton and Afghanistan. We were all pretty happy when Obama started pulling us out. It's really a shitshow, over there," he says, shaking his head. And then he grimaces and immediately apologize, "Pardon my language, ma'am." Because you have to speak nicely in the presence of a lady!

"It must be a Marine thing. If you're sitting still, you're bored and wanting to do more?" Fawn says, chuckling befor she leans forwards a little, listening. The apology has her grinning, "I've heard worse around the firehouse. No worries."

"Eh. I mean, serving is serving. The only people that want to get into the sauce are idiots who don't know any better," Tyrone says, shaking his head. "Everybody thinks they wanna fight for our country, but being shot at is not nearly as much fun as you might think. Plus, MOST of the fighting is done while you're laying in a ditch, trying to guess where they are while someone fires off rounds once or twice a minute. It's nothing like you see in the movies."

"I'd agree with you there. for the most part. But I know my cousin. I think he feels like he's sitting a desk job instead of actually doing something?" Fawn says by wya of explaining before she shrugs again, "I admit, there's days I feel like I'm doing the same thing. It's why I offered to cover shifts as needed.."

Tyrone shakes his head again. "Serving is serving. And sitting at a desk as a fireman is the best possible situation. I mean, if YOU'RE busy, it means people are losing stuff in a fire. That's not only dangerous for you, but dangerous for civilians and also usually a pretty sad story, no matter how it ends up."

"For me, it means I'm looking into cases, determining if the fire was an accident, or something else entirely." Which can be a bad thing all the way around for people. "But I enjoy the investigation almost as much as I enjoy running into the burning building to begin with. "

"... oh. ... yeah, I guess that is different than when you're still a fireman. But no less important," Tyrone says, shrugging. Picking up his cup, he finishes off its contents and then sighs. "Well. My cup is empty. I guess that means I should probably get started with my day. It was really nice to meet you, Fawn," he says, offering his hand again.

Fawn nods, then rises to her feet, her cup still quite full, "And time for me to go get some errands run before I fall into bed." She reaches out for his hand, "Nice to meet you as well, Tyrone. Hope you have a good day." She moves off to the door, holding it open for him, waving as she turns to head off.