2019-09-17 - Raindrops And Coffee Cups

It's a thundery summer's evening. Rain lashes down outside, the sky periodically lit up by forks of lightning, though the rumble of the thunder doesn't penetrate much over Espresso Yourself's music. Unsurprisingly, the coffee shop is fairly quiet because of the downpour, a handful of people sat in ones and twos, ordering more drinks to avoid having to go out in the rain.

Corey arrives from outside at a run, having clearly been caught in the storm as it began. His cargo shorts and loose vest are soaked through, hair plastered to his head and converse sneakers making a lovely squeaking/squelching sound when he darts in, closing the door behind him. "Jesus!"

A young woman in her 20s with firey red hair is hunched over a stool at the counter, nursing a cup that isn't quite steaming, her dark jacket not looking particularly wet, indicating that she's been here for a some time already. Her head reflexively turns upon hearing the squeak coming from the door, but her attention returns to her drink pretty quickly, not recognizing the newcomer, not that she would anyone around town at this point.

"We're throwing a fundraiser, not a fourteen year old's birthday party," Clarissa can be heard before she's seen, sounding annoyed as usual and holding her iPhone in her hand on speaker phone where poor Michael on the other end can be heard apologizing, "You can't just send out an evite. Does that name even sound classy to you? Evite?" She steps into the line and looks up at the menu, "Michael, google whether or not any of the frothy drinks here are gluten free. What do you mean you don't know where I am? Honestly, what good are you?"

Taking a little bit of time to wring out the bits of his clothing that he can without becoming indecently exposed, and removing his shoes and socks to leave by the door so he doesn't walk a small lake into the coffee shop, Corey heads for the counter, pulling a soggy wallet out of his shorts and flashing a very sheepish smile at the waitress behind the counter. When it's his turn, he places his order. "Hey Mandy. Americano, double sugar double cream, with a shot of vanilla, please." Apparently he has a sweet tooth the size of the state, and isn't afraid to show it. While waiting for his drink to be served he leans along the counter to nab a handful of napkins, probably flicking drops of rainwater on the coffee-nursing Alison and maybe even the power-calling Clarissa by accident.

Alison eyes her manila folder stuffed full of resumes as it's sprinkled lightly with water and drags it a bit closer to herself, not wanting to risk the day's task going undone. Her head turns back over towards corey, looking him up and down, quickly appraising him, mind on autopilot for the most part. Her throat catches slightly with something of a suppressed laugh, and says, "Kinda wet out there, huh?" as she brushes her hair away from her eyes.

A couple of drops of water end up on her phone and her shoes and Clarissa sniffs with annoyance as she reaches for a napkin to wipe them off, "I suggest you look up the menus for all the restaurants around here and then call in to find out calorie counts and nutritional information. And then look up the definition of a personal assistant so that I'm not always having to tell you how to do your job." She ends the call and steps up when it's her turn to order, "Just a black coffee. In a to-go cup." She looks over at Corey and sniffs again, "Surely you own an umbrella?" Alison is given a once-over. That's some bright lipstick. "Not unheard of for this area. I've actually been surprised it hasn't rained more often over the summer."

"Oh man, I'm sorry," Corey apologises to Alison as he notices her moving the paperwork, the few darker spots on it caused by him dripping rainwater everywhere. "Sorry!" he repeats to Clarissa. "And I totally do, but I didn't think I'd be out so long as to need it," he adds regarding the umbrella, passing a few blessedly dry bills across the counter and claiming his drink, moving back a bit to let others do the same without getting damp. "Also, she's at Espresso Yourself," he adds loud enough to be heard on the other end of Clarissa's call, just before she hangs up. Helpful sort that he is.

Alison snickers a bit more at Corey's last moment addition there, then addresses Clarissa. "That's kind of the way it goes, isn't it? Dry all summer, and then we get it all at once in September just as it starts to cool down." She pauses for a moment to take a sip from her coffee, pauses again, then finishes it, pushing the empty cup with her previous one. "Of course it has to start pouring down when I'm out here looking for a fucking job."

"I don't suppose you know anything about being a personal assistant?" Clarissa asks, accepting her cup from the barista after passing over some money and then heading to sit down at the counter near Alison. "Not that that seems to be how anyone gets a job in that field anyway." She goes to have a sip, but it's still far too hot so she sets it down again. "I'm not used to it being so wet. It didn't rain nearly this much in New York. Sometimes it seems like everything here is constantly damp."

"Yeah pretty much," Corey agrees with Alison's view of the weather and the distribution of sun and rain. "What do you do? Or rather, what're you looking for?" he asks the unemployed redhead, sliding onto a seat at the counter one spot over, ensuring he's not close enough to get rainwater on her. "You should stand out in the sun more, when it's out. You'll try up in no time," he adds, helpfully, towards Clarissa.

Alison can't help but laugh at Clarissa's.. suggestion? Notion? Query? Something. "Not particularly. Outside of waiting tables, I don't think I'm quite good for much." she says, answering Corey's question at the same time. She grabs her cup absentmindedly, then is quickly reminded that she already finished it. "I haven't had a good look around town yet, so I'm not sure what there is in terms of waiting gigs, but I'm.. pretty sure that I don't want to work at the Cracker Barrel I saw on the drive in. Unless I have to." Her eyes dart back over to Corey, examining him a little more closely, before climbing down off the stool to order another coffee, leaving her folder behind with the intention of signalling her return.

Clarissa takes the cap off her cup to allow it to cool more quickly, which of course also ups the danger of it ending up in her lap, "Peach's Pizzeria is hiring," she notes, picking up her phone when it buzzes and giving it a stern look, "Or it should be. Siri, text Michael I already have my order comma next time type faster period. Send." When Corey offers his suggestion of spending more time outside she looks his way, "That doesn't seem to be good advice on a day like today."

"So is the Grizzly Den, and the Firehouse BBQ and Grill, I think," Corey adds to Clarissa's list. "Or if you know decent silver service, Patisserie Vydal." He then grins at Clarissa's response. "The sun will come back tomorrow. In the meantime the rain is actually pretty warm, and there are worse things to be than drenched. At least I wasn't struck by lightning." Apparently, this one is an optimist.

Alison fishes her wallet out of her crossbody purse, pays for her drink, then returns to her stool, quickly jotting down the names of most of those places in her phone before sticking it back in her purse as well, readjusting the strap so that it's secure against her torso. "I.. I'm not quite sure what silver service /is/, to be honest? Sounds pretentious." She takes a sip from the new cup, screws her face up a bit upon finding it too hot, then sets it down on the counter. "Thanks for the suggestions. It'll probably have to wait until tomorrow with this rain, though. No point showing up during dinner rush looking like a drowned harassed rat."

"Vicky at Peach's Pizzeria probably wouldn't mind," Clarissa comments, wrinkling her nose in the face of Corey's optimism. "The sun could come out tomorrow or it could just rain more. That's what winters here are all about, right? Rain, wet, and drizzly," she pauses as a loud crack of thunder just about shakes the building, "Maybe wait to head back outside lest you test that not hit by lighting yet thing."

"Oh come on. It's the start of September, not the middle of November. This is still very early Autumn," Corey argues with Clarissa, light-hearted rather than serious. He then slants a sidelong look at Alison. "Definitely not the Patisserie then. Also, I'd maybe recommend the Firehouse over the others. The Den and Peach's probably have the student crowd, and they're not the best tippers." Speaking from experience there, clearly.

The thunder catches Alison off guard, cutting off whatever she was about to respond with about the weather, and she gasps sharply. Her eyes dart to the windows at the front of the coffee shop, watching the rain for a moment, then quietly muttering mostly to herself. "I sure hope the U-Haul doesn't leak.." She turns back to Clarissa and Corey, "Mm, okay. Thanks." then makes a few further notes in her phone. Peeking back up at Clarissa, eyes darting over her clothing and making a silent judgement call. "I don't mean to intrude or anything, but can I ask what kind of fundraiser you were talking about on the phone? I haven't exactly been here long, but this doesn't quite seem like.." She gestures at the woman's outfit, "..a fundraiser kind of town?"

Clarissa has a sip of her barely tolerable temperature coffee and then remarks to Alison, "You're not wrong. But I prefer to see it as this town being untested when it comes to events of that kind. I'm Clarissa Robbins, chairwoman of the Gray Harbor Historical Society and our newest venture is to help rebuild some of the older historical buildings in town that were damaged recently. In order to get people into the more giving spirit, it'd be a themed party with various delicious treats and entertainment. And a sliding scale of ticket prices so that a...majority of people can come." Poor people. She means poor people.

"So the poor people get to come as well as the rich?" Corey interprets helpfully, seeing no need to beat around the metaphorical bush. "Who is catering for it?" he then asks with curiosity, sipping his coffee and turning a curious eye towards Alison and then back to the fundraiser.

Alison puts on her best waitressing smile at Clarissa. "Ah. I guess fixing up old buildings around town is a good enough cause as any!" Her gaze turns back towards Corey and she gives him a bit of a shrug, not entirely sure if he's suggesting what she thinks he is. Alison reaches back for her cup of coffee and takes a nice long sip, trying to cover her face with it as best she can.

Clarissa eyes Corey, "Everyone that would like to invest in both the history and the future of Gray Harbor is welcome to come," she replies in her best 'give me money' voice. It's pretty good. "We haven't decided on a caterer yet. Michael is still compiling bids. Whoever takes it on is going to have to be able to handle a myriad of food allergies and sensitives as well as provide whimsical cuisine such as chocolate mousse swans and such," she waves a hand as if to say 'the usual.'

"If you want the best, it'll be Patisserie Vydal. From anywhere else, your chocolate mousse swans will wilt in the fall heat and taste like chalky nonsense." Corey's recommendation is friendly but firm. Not that he knows if Vyv has even put in a bid, or is interested. "Anyhow. I need to get home now the rain is going off a bit. " Yes, his coffee is in a to-go cup, and he takes another sip from it. "Nice meeting you both, ladies." Then, he's off towards the door, to reclaim his soaked-through shoes.

Alison calls out, "Have a good day!" as Corey leaves. She looks out at the window, then eyes her watch, giving off a soft little sigh as she realizes how late it's gotten. "Yeah, I think today's out in terms of dropping off resumes. Dammit." She picks up her folder and tucks it under her jacket. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss Robbins. I'm Alison. Maybe I'll see you around town sometime?" The smile's back on her face, if only for a moment, then she's picked up her own coffee cup and heads out towards the door as well.

"Missus," Clarissa corrects out of habit, taking another sip of coffee and giving Alison a nod, "Probably. I'm always about in one way or another. Good luck with your search. Do stop by the pizzeria, they are desperate for help." In her opinion.

Alison nods. "Thanks again, Missus Robbins. Sorry!" And she's out the door.