2019-11-20 - Close To Home

Now that Lalo has a new favorite place in town, he's back for breakfast! He's wearing scrubs under a heavier coat, so he must be either coming from a shift, or going to a shift. Obviously. It probably doesn't even need mentioning, and yet he mentions it anyway. The coat is removed to reveal that they are not, in fact, just blue, but are in fact blue with a Captain Marvel insignia on the front.

That done, he starts toward one of the tables to seat himself, giving a wave to one of the bears as though they're old friends. He grabs a menu, sitting down and starting to peruse it as he waits for someone to come take his order.

There IS actually one person who is willing to approach people to take orders-- but that's more Lalo's good luck, all things considered. The mousy girl in baggy clothes stutter-whispers what Lalo wants, barely audible over the sound Aretha Franklin's RESPECT, while the other waiter is currently busy picking up dishes from a table while having what is clearly a social phone call, cell phone pressed against his shoulder and cheek. At the counter, one of the waiters is managing the register with one hand, as the other currently has nail polish drying, and one? One is just leaning on the counter reading one of those magazines that discuss how the lovechild of Elvis and the Greys has run away with a crocodile carrying Tupac's baby thanks to a genetic experiment done by the Lizardmen.

The latter female, purple-haired with sweeping smoky eye make-up and plum lips, is currently dressed in black skinny jeans, boots, and a sheer mesh top beneath a shredded cropped band tee for some heavy metal band which itself is beneath a navy plaid flannel shirt. She spared no glance over when the bell rung to herald Lalo's arrival, but she does glance when he sits.... and nope, no smile. Just looking back to her magazine, giving it another flip of a page.

Lalo seems to find all of this hilarious, judging by his expression. He looks around with a grin after he's ordered -- pancakes with two sides of bacon -- and he tips his head a little bit in the direction of that call, because hey, if someone is just going to walk around dropping gossip, he's not going to just ignore it. Come on. He's only human.

His attention is then caught, however, by Gina's magazine. He squints, possibly because he's trying to read the titles, before he says, loud enough so that she can hear it, "That's all bullshit in there, you know." There's a brief pause, before he adds, "Everyone knows Elvis is running an antique car shop down in El Paso."

It takes Gina just a few seconds too long to answer - enough to think maybe she might be purposefully ignoring Lalo, enough for the song to switch from RESPECT to No Scrubs. Apparently today's flavor of music is either Women Power or Man Bashing or some sort of combination of the two. But just when it gets uncomfortably obvious Lalo might be being ignored-- Gina glances to him, eyes flicking to that Captain Marvel insignia before going back to Lalo's face. "Not according to the February edition. The one in El Paso's a clone." She says, deadpan. It's actually hard to tell if she's joking or not - her expression is hard to read, just that blasé. "Doesn't really matter either way. The saga's fun. And more interesting than reality TV, anyway."

Is she ignoring him? If so, it doesn't seem to put a damper on Lalo's enthusiasm. Maybe he thinks it's part of the charm of the place! And he also does not take the song literally and leave -- mostly because he really wants to eat some bacon and pancakes. Despite not being daunted by her potential ignoring, though, he does look pleased when she finally answers, his smile widening into a full-on grin. The See Spot Run expression to her War and Peace.

"That's just what he wants you to think," he replies with a shake of his head, leaning back and stretching his legs out as far as they will go under the table. "Throws you off the trail. Gonna make my way down there sometime to confirm and then I'll let you know." You're welcome, Gina.

"It's like all my dreams are coming true all at once." Is Gina's bland response, her attention flitting back to her magazine, "You already ordered what you needed or what?" She asks, with an absolute lack of any real interest. "Passing through, here a while, or family in the place?" Her eyes do glance briefly towards the scrubs he's wearing, both brows raising slightly.

"Man, if only I had a dollar for everyone who's ever said that to me," Lalo replies. "I'd have enough to cover, like, half my breakfast." He nods, though, giving her a thumbs up as though he actually thinks she cares about the answer. Whether he actually thinks she does or not. Maybe he's dumb! "Sure did," he says, and lo and behold, it arrives! He takes one of the pieces of bacon and bites into it with relish. "That's fucking delicious."

It's his turn to have her waiting for his answer now, though to be fair to him, he's focusing on eating a couple strips of bacon. However, once he's taken the edge off, he continues, "Just moved here. Might be here a while, maybe not. But it's been pretty good so far. Mostly 'cause I can eat all my meals with a bunch of bears. You from here?"

"That many people? Huh. You've got hidden depths." Gina replies to his joke about breakfast costs. And it's a pretty cheap place to eat, too -- surprisingly cheap, considering how excellent the food is. There's REAL maple syrup, even! But either way, Gina seems content to skim through a few other pages of her magazine, trying to find any other good(?) articles to read. When he asks her a question, however, she looks up again.

"More or less." Gina says, with a slight smile that just screams 'ambiguous answers.' But the smile fades quickly enough, before she pushes herself away from the counter, setting the magazine down on top of it, and then goes to pour herself a mug of coffee, adding caramel sauce to it - the kind that's meant as an ice cream topping, but works very well for coffee sweetener, apparently. After which she holds the mug and looks over Lalo. Sensing that shine and shimmer on him-- a little weaker than her own, after all. She's got the gleam to her as strong as you'll find in town. "You'll be here more than you want." She says finally, sipping at her coffee. Before adding, as an afterthought, "Less than you'd like. And not how you wanted."

Lalo tips his head to the side when she answers, his eyes flicking briefly to her coffee mug when she adds that caramel sauce with an expression that's nothing short of covetous, but when he looks back to her, that expression fades into something more thoughtful. He studies her as she speaks, his smile still present, though it takes on a different quality now. A little bit less open book.

"Getting all deep over breakfast, huh?" he finally says, still in a light tone. "See, that's why I love this place." It might have been a joke, but the next words belie that impression. "You remind me of someone," he says, more seriously now.

"Not deep." Gina's denial is mild, with that slight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Just an observation. You'll get used to it." Another sip of her coffee, this one slow and ever so slightly audible, eyes half-closed. MOCKING Lalo with how good it clearly is. Or just enjoying her coffee? It's hard to call. But her eyes flick back up towards Lalo at his implication that she reminds him of someone. "Doubt that. I'm the sparkliest unicorn bear snowflake in town." Again that perfect deadpan, accompanied by a light shrug, "You know a local then?"

Her over the top drinking of the coffee elicits a laugh, and Lalo shakes his head. It's her next words that get a reply, though. "Oh yeah, mama," he says. "You're shiny as fuck." That is, of course, not a joke. Since she is. He tips his head the other way, pulling his head back and squinting, in the manner of someone who's just on the brink of some sort of recognition, before he continues, "Not a local. You remind me of my brother."

He reaches for the syrup then to pour a veritable river onto the pancakes in front of him that had been all but forgotten in favor of her super friendly and enthusiastic conversation, and cuts a bite with the side of his fork.

Gina accepts the observation with a small shrug, "Can't really help it." She replies dryly. "You get used to it. I'm retired, though." Is that even possible? But that's what she says. "Have been for years. I just work here now." And owns the place, something easily found out in a town this small. She looks at Lalo without really watching him, her eyes elsewhere as he destroys those delicious, fluffy pancakes, before she asks, "Your brother. Where's he from?"

"Retired? Good for you." the pancakes really are delicious, though. Lalo's going to take a minute now, so the fact that Gina's not actually looking at him eat does not bother him in the slightest. In fact, he doesn't even notice. It's almost as good as coffee with caramel sauce in it -- which he may or may not be about to order some of, as well. However, he is still listening, and when she asks that, he does reply. "LA," he says from around a mouthful of food. "Seems even more shiny up here, though."

"Lucked out." Gina says, her words still mild, quiet as well - as if perhaps unintentionally stated, blue-tipped black fingernails tapping against the mug in time with La India's 'Ese Hombre.' Because Vengeful New Woman songs cross linguistic lines! She glances back at Lalo, then her eyes sweep around the room, making sure nothing is on fire and whoever should be working is. When her eyes return to Lalo, she says, "It is. The sound's deeper here. And the quiet places are a lot deeper, too. You'll notice it too. Just normal around here. Don't really recommend your brother pop into town, though. He's probably better off in LA."

"Mm hmm." It's a vague answer for a quiet words, acknowledging them without really addressing them. After all, what does Lalo really know about it? Nothing. Instead of saying anything else, that 'hmm' turns into a hum, following along for a couple bars of the song. "I like your music choices. You got a nice angry vibe going on in here."

He quiets then, taking another few bites of his pancakes as she advises him against bringing his brother here. The smile shifts a little wryly, and he says, "Where were you a couple months ago when I was job and apartment hunting? We're kind of a package deal nowadays." He shrugs, "We'll make it work."

"I felt empowered this morning. Rara, sisterhood." Gina lifts a fist, looking the opposite of enthusiastic, before her hands wrap around her mug again. "I'll probably do Girls Are Bitches And Hoes later today to balance my karma later. " She doesn't seem as if she's joking-- but has she seemed that way at all, during any of this? Not really. She's a hard one to read.

Returning to the counter, she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out... a deck of cards? The normal, bicycle deck, red-backed, found everywhere. She pulls them out, shuffling them, before she lays them out in a small line in front of Lalo. "I was here. Not my fault you didn't find me. Pick three."

"Probably a good call. You want to make sure everything's in alignment and shit." Whether Lalo assumes she's serious, or he's playing along, he doesn't seem to mind it. He does watch her when she walks away with some curiosity, leaning a little bit forward and tipping his head to better see what she's doing. Hey, he's nosy. Luckily, he figures it out soon enough.

"Cards, philosophy, Elvis sightings. What doesn't this place have?" It's a rhetorical question. Probably, anyway, since he doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he looks down at the cards, taking a few seconds before he selects three of them. One from one side, one from the other, and after another few moments' consideration, one from the middle. He pushes them toward her, looking up with a raised eyebrow as he waits to see what she'll do.

Gina collects the line of cards, tapping the sides so that they align, and she sets them aside. Then she takes the three pulled ones, laying them down in the order Lalo pulled them, the red backs uniform and the cards lined up just so. She uncovers the first one, the Three of Diamonds. Looks a moment. Repeats that with the second, the Jack of Spades, and the third, the Seven of Clubs. And both her brows rise at the end of it. She puts the first one just to the side of Lalo's plate.

"Good at what you do. Good at planning. Supporting your team. Its own reward. That was before." The second card goes on top of that. "Challenge. Analysis. A cause that drives you, a trial. Somebody good with a problematic relationship to you. That's your now." The third card goes atop that. "Defense. Fear and courage. Standing against the enemies. That's coming."

She taps the pile of cards, looking unsurprised as she looks at Lalo. "This is your Gray Harbor welcome. But like I said. You'll be here more than you want. Less than you'd like. And not how you wanted."

In the beginning of the reading, Lalo still has that look that he's had since he got in here -- like he finds everything about this place amazing and kind of hilarious, from the bears to Gina's indifference and everything in between. When she goes on, however, his smile fades a little bit, and by the time she's done with it, well.

He sits back, staring at the cards for several long moments. Looking at them, yes, but not really seeing them. His eyes are instead unfocused, merely resting there while his mind is somewhere much further away.

Or not. He suddenly blinks, looking up at Gina again as he runs a hand back over his head. "That's some welcome," he says, a hint of his smile returning, though it's his turn for it not to go quite all the way up his face now. "Thanks." Another brief pause; then: "Can I get the check?"

Gina doesn't look surprised at his lack of joy and giggles. In fact, she gives a faint smile, a slice of plum lips as his demeanor shifts. She doesn't respond, just checks the items he's ordered and prints out a receipt over by the register, bringing it back to set on the other side of his plate. "Feel free to take those cards. They're yours now anyway. Or throw them out." Her words carry that same casual indifference, before she slides to the side, leaning against the counter as she flips her book open with the hand not holding her mug.

Lalo reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, glancing at the receipt and pulling out a few bills to cover it. He hesitates over the cards, but eventually picks them up and replaces those bills with them in his wallet before he puts them away. He's careful, as though they're something more precious than bits of paper covered in plastic. Or maybe as though they're mildly explosive and have to be handled with care.

He stands up then, slipping his wallet into his pocket, and then his smile widens again, more like it had been when he'd entered. "I like you," he announces, Does she care? Probably not! Does he care that she doesn't care? Also probably not. He points to her then, and adds, "I'm gonna make you my friend even if it kills me." He doesn't wait for her reply, perhaps because he assumes he won't get one. Instead, he turns to head toward the exit.