2020-03-11 - A New Opportunity

Business has seemed to slow a little, but there's still a customer or two who pause to look at some of the computers. A receptionist pauses to offer one of the newcomers assistance, while Stefhan offers help to another. A few words are exchanged and the conversation goes with the individual being 'just interested' which can be a bit discouraging. Regardless, the owner doesn't appear to be one who is about to homeless, and even in more surprise, there's a four legged hairless cat running around in a sweater. This is what happens when you own your own business. "Come here son." Stefhan says as he reaches for the cat. The courtship must have been an interesting process.

Even the few customers here stop and stare at the cat who looks like a bit of a rat.

Needless to say, Ainslie feels some classy bringing her emphysemic pickup truck to heel along Maple Road. Thankfully she's damned good at driving the fugly thing because for her to parallel park it sloppily on top of it sticking out like a sore thumb... yeah. ANYWAY she is here for a reason. A few weeks back during the bout of sequined bump and grind at the Firefly Club, she encountered a strapping young chap who mentioned owning a computer business. Last night, while she was working on 'Something Important' in her laptop, the God forsaken thing shit the bed and lagged itself into a catastrophic crash. Enough was enough... the Hub is about to get itself a new patron. And what a patron she is.

Ainslie stalks into the Hub, all leg in tight black denim and a long tunic-style plaid shirt beneath a black duffel winter coat. THe offending laptop is in it's ratty-looking bag, jammed beneath her elbow... she stands there, frozen and unsure. Not only does she feel out-of-place here.. but she sees the Sphynx cat. She has... never before seen.....

The other two just stare at the cat, not really knowing what what to say. The kitty is secure in his arms though and he leans in to kiss the 'baby' on the top of his head. A few strokes and seems like the purrrr machine has been turned on. But, a cat purring is expected here, Ainslie technically isn't.

Though he's met her before, maybe briefly, but this is a friendly town. "Hello." He says as she comes in. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Mr. Snuggles notices the bag and, being ratty, there's a few strings that might be fun to bat and play with, maybe? Cats prefer ratty looking things after all.

The willowy, feral-looking Ainslie comes from a land of big, furry, block-headed cats... has there ever been a hairless cat in her small community? Never. Never. Ainslite stands still and watchful, golden-brown eyes rounded in her face, her chilly-pale hand clutching the strap of the DOA thing that brought her to this place. Stefhan's greeting breaks Ainslie out of her reverie and she manages a quick, awkward grin.. her teeth animal-white: "Huh.. ah, yeah. Though I think this thing is beyond help." She offers ruefully. "I mean, when.... I'm in no rush." THe pair look really cozy!

Indeed the old bag has hanging strings... as Ainslie lets the bag drop, it merely hangs at her side now.. bringing tantalizing strings closer to the floor, closer to cat-level. "Did I need to make an appointment?"

Stefhan coos a bit and gives the cat some additional pets. "No, you don't need an appointment, it's fine." Sure enough, the kitty just staressssssssssss at the bag and well, when a cat wants something you can't stop him! He jumps out of his adopted father's arms and makes a beeline for the computer bag. With a bit of a soft paw at first, it pads at the jagged fabric and Stefhan only shakes his head. "Well, you might have to wait a bit to get your bag back." He chuckles, "If you don't mind Miss, you can put it on the counter here and I'll take a look." Of course, such said counter is completely free of dust. There's no lint around here.

The woman watches the kitty's approach, and for a time she stands there marvelling at how a cat can: A. Be hairless and B. LOOK while hairless. This is a New Thing. Ainslie can't help herself... she reaches down to unzip the bag, pulling the offending laptop out of it's depths and letting the empty bag hang at her side. So even as she moves toward the counter, the empty bag yet swings and teases the kitty with the hanging strings. Unless Stefhan's little boy decides to use Ainslie's leg as a scratch post, she will let the cat play with the bag at her side. Meanwhile the laptop -- a 2016 Toshiba Satellite -- is brought forth onto the table of reckoning. She looks embarrassed; she does not belong here, amidst these cutting-edge machines.

Mercifully the computer is clean and externally well-cared-for. "It keeps bogging up.. I reckon it may be getting geriatric..."

Stefhan looks over at his 'son' and just chuckles. "You can pet him if you wish." If she does, she will get a feeling of petting a suede hot water bottle, it's kinda like that. Maybe not too hot but the kitty is warm. But Stefhan does get to work and he chuckles, "Somehow I don't think you are going to use this for gaming, right? I could be wrong." What's even better is that the pretty lady's leg is not scratchworthy at the moment. "You definitely have been taking care of it. These machines attract dust like a moth to a flame." Then he tries to boot it up.

"I-I had a cat when I lived back home-" Ainslie offers feebly as Stef's 'son' follows her (ie. The Bag) to the counter. She looks down at the kitty and as Stefhan prepares to awaken the dead, Ainslie leans forth to extend a hand carefully in the direction of Mr. Snuggles. Indeed as her palm touches that wriggly naked back, Ainslie is... startled.. and pleased. "He's like some kind of baby with ninja reflexes and pointy bits..." Yeah, she's no poet.

Back to bidness. Ainslie straightens, looks embarrassed. "No gaming.. it's mostly for corresponding with family and working on... things, heh. It's not a gaming rig. But it's covered a lot of ground.. is it even worth sinking money into, to repair?"

The laptop grinds along, speaking in pig latin as it struggles to boot: 'kill me', it grinds; 'kill meeee'. Thank the Gods, it isn't dusty.

Stefhan listens carefully and says, "Well, there is some good news, I'm sure I can get the information from this computer onto another one so you won't loose anything but, if you can upgrade, I'd highly highly recommend it. Even with some of the new wireless networks out there, if the card is not up to date, you won't get the service you want or need. I assume if you were looking at a new laptop, you really don't need anything fancy?"

Blink. Blush. Redness sets tiger-bright eyes to glowing and Ainslie looks unnerved. "Shit--" Oh, damnit. Not very polite but can one blame her? Computers are expensive and Ainslie.. she...

.. is a waitress. Lives in a trailer park. Isn't sure why she is here to begin with.

Ainslie looks down at the mirthful naked cat, letting it all sink in. Funny enough. Ainslie understands what Stefhan is explaining.. she has the know-how, she just... doesn't have the money. "I get it... I should've known, eh.." A little laugh. "Thing is, I can't shell out the money just yet to replace the thing. But I do not need fancy... do not.... what would you recommend, really? To transfer the files and maybe get into something that hasn't witnessed the friggin' birth of Christ?"

Stefhan is a businessman of course, but he does have a heart. "Some computers are quite expensive, some, not so much. If you don't have a budget to work from well, I'm actually looking for more employees around here. I have a problem trying to keep everything clean. It's a real challenge to me. What, kind of work do you do?"

Wait.. employees? Is he---

Ainslie looks up suddenly, looking upon the sharp-dressed man with a degree of intrigue. She has known computer nerds: when she lived in Toronto she knew of a fellow (a regular at the restaurant that she waitressed) who was about 300lbs and could discuss every iota of detail about terabytes, exabytes, zettabytes and yottabytes... etc etc. That man did NOT look like this one. It does NOT make sense.

"I'm a musician," Ainslie offers soberly; her eyes soften warily. "I like cars. I fuckin' hate waitressing but I'm good at that too---" Blush. "Shit, sorry, I curse too much.... shit, I mean-" She looks down at Mr. Snuggles again. "I can clean, m'good at that..."

Mr. Snuggles just wags his tail a little at the woman. Hoomans speak such funny words sometimes so the kitty can't help that he's confused. "Well, if you are good at cleaning, you have a job. I hate messes, I really do. If you are up for ironing well, even better. Let's just say you can have plenty of work around here and it would be more than enough for you to get a new computer. Up to you though."

There is a glowing, seething feeling in Ainslie's gut... not-at-all a resentful emotion, just embarassment. Why is she pondering the prospect of being a computer-store cleaner? Of course she would do well. Check out her trailer in Huckleberry, it's damned clean. She is a trailer park resident, not trailer trash. But how.. why...

... she needs a new laptop but can't aink her savings right now. Not with winter coming; not with the tires of her fucking truck needing replacement. But she NEEDS that computer... she has loved ones afar, she has ambitions. She has reasons.

Still watching Mr. Snuggles, Ainslie blushes, "I'm still employed elsewhere... can ya take me on full-time? Or can you cater to another work schedule? I'm yours if I can be full time."

Stefhan tries not to chuckles too much and he nods, "Yes, if you're willing to work full time, I am willing to hire. I might need a few references if you don't mind and, a full time job is here if you want it. I'm very picky about how 'neat' things look so, you will be busy."

A snort that somehow manages to sound delicate. Everything about Ainslie is a walking middle-finger to propriety but she just has this underlying grace that is.... incongruent. "I'll put my notice in at the greasy spoon tomorrow.... Christ, I hate that job." Beat, blush. "Shit... I am not one to slander workplaces but y'know, this one is a real case. I..." Ugh, ugh. Is she really//? She is, actually.

An earnest smile that, despite her own emotional 'erhamgerd'ness'... one can hone their life on: "I will put my notice in at the other place tomorrow. If you can handle me being here only on Thursday and Friday afternoons for the next two weeks, I'm all yours after. I have to be honorable.."

A firm look: "Ain't afraid of being busy." Truth.

Stefhan smiles in return and says, "Very good, and I can definitely work with that. Since I make it a point to treat my employees well. Please watch Mr. Snuggles for me." He goes away into another part of the building then he returns. There is an envelope and he presents it to her. "Cash advance, if you need anything. Consider getting some nice work clothes out of it." That's his polite way of reminding her that this is a business, and it needs to look the part. When she opens the envelope she will see $1000 cash.

Now this, she didn't expect. Ainslie anticipates, once she is cleared from that hateful waitressing job, the 'sitdown' to discuss wage, schedule, maybe even a financing plan... take a hundred dollars out of each pay to put toward a computer. Etc, etc. But she watches with some alarm as Stefhan stands to make his way to another part of the building--wait, is he having second thoughts? Makes sense. Maybe she should take her shitty laptop and... wait, there he is.

Ainslie is handed the envelope, and with a puzzled look she opens it up and peers down at what is within. Is it a coupon or two or three? A couple of dollars' worth of gift cards to the sandwich place down the street? No, it's fucking $1000.

Ainslie looks stunned, but in her poise she has promise. She looks up at Stefhan, utterly flabbergasted. "T-this is.. it's.. it's too generous.. I mean are you... you're sure?"

Stefhan nods in response to her question and says, "Yes, I definitely am for sure. You need to get yourself setup. Leaving a job can be a trying time so, I'm sure. Take it, I have plenty." He yawns a little and reaches for Mr. Snuggles, "I think I need to put my baby boy down for a nap but, yes, come back by and we'll discuss other arrangements. Get yourself something good to eat, or whatever you wish."