2020-04-24 - Helpful Hetero Husband

There a few hours of Easton just staring at the wall of his office slumped against his desk drinking. The plan, such as it is, is drinking until he blacks out. But then he can feel something happening. It turns out that this terrible, no good day continues. Because suddenly all he can feel is exactly where every gun in the bar is. Including the gun tucked into the pocket of his jacket in some veil based hole. Really he should have seen this coming frankly. The sensible thing would be to call for help. There are plenty of people he could call who would come running.

But he's far past making good decision. Instead he decides to start yelling about it.

Tina, she of the impressive Karen-esque hairdo and a no-shits-given attitude rolls her eyes out on the floor. There are still customers in the bar, even though it's near closing time. They are well aware that their boss is on a bender inside his office, but usually he has the good grace to at least be quiet about it. Another waitress pulls her aside and asks her, "Should we call Bennie?" Tina just snorts and says, "No, she's had enough cleaning up after drunks. Call his husband." The other waitress gives her a curious look before Tina growls, "No, dumbass. Nevermind, I'll do it myslef."

Which is how Geoff gets a phone call from a very surly Tina, "Your husband is drunk as a skunk and yelling about ghosts in the bar? Come get him or I'm calling the cops." She's charming.

When face with the option between coming and getting Easton or leaving him to the hands of the fuzz, well...There's only one choice that Geoff can make, and that one sees him strolling into the bar not ten minutes later. With an arch of an eyebrow towards Tina and the direction of the office located he walks over to it, and with little ado, lets himself in. Drawing his fingers back through his hair he says "Okay hubby, let's get you to the trailer. You've got to stop terrorizing the bar at some point."

Easton's still slumped against the desk, a dark spot on the carpet next to him is spilled booze but it's questionable for a moment if that's just piss. He looks up slowly when Geoff enters and takes that in for a moment before giving a derisive snort. "Oh good we've moved on to the present.." He makes a limp wristed hand motion and says, "Go on. Be shitty and tell me to fuck off. Or.. that I'm piece of shit." He then narrows his eyes, having realized there is a chance this is actually happening. He gropes blindly on the desk behind him for something, and finds a stapler.

"Are you real?"

He throws the stapler at him. Why on earth this would prove anything is anyone's guess, but drunk and logic don't always mix so well.

Geoff gets pelted by that flying stapler right as he is about to say something, "Co---THE FUCK MAN. Come on you're drunk and we're going home, you can either come willingly or you can end up unconscious and beaten by your own leg. The choice is yours." Geoff is certainly real, and kind of pissed off, though he does offer a bribe to make it better "Come on and we'll get mcdonalds if you can promise not to puke in my truck....You can promise that, right? That and you haven't met Erasmus yet."

Easton seems mollified by the fact that the stapler hit him, though not in the least bit guilty about it. He stares at Geoff with that entirely unintelligent glassy eyed drunken look with mouth slightly open. He considers taking the beating option but then there's cheeseburgers at play and something about Her Ass Moss which Easton is unsure about but curious. He slowly nods and starts to push himself up but it doesn't go so well. His bad leg buckles and twists and he goes down smacking his face on the desk in the process and ending up face down, still holding the bottle.

Geoff watches Easton try to stand up, not looking impressed in the least. Finally he walks over and slaps the man upside the backside of the head, and simultaneously sobers him up in an entirely glimmerish way "Screw it, I'm not risking vomit down my back carrying you out to the truck. You can walk presumably now." taking a step back he says "How you feeling chief?"

There is a grunt at the slap but no real protest. Easton lays on the floor for a moment longer before opening one eye, confused as to why everything is again in focus. He pushes himself up, big stains of spilled booze now adorning his shirt and pants. He stands, without issue this time, looks around unsure of what's happening for a moment. At the question he tilts his head and says slowly, "Okay... confused." He then thinks back and asks, "Did I throw a stapler at you?" As if that were something that happened long ago and not like forty seconds ago. He looks down at himself and shakes his head, "Shit." And then at his office rug , "Shit." He starts peeling off his shirt, pulling out a duffle bag from behind the couch to get some clothes.

"We need to fucking go though.. I can't..." He talks in bursts as clothes fly off and back on. "It's been a fucking day Geoff."

Geoff sighs, and nods "Yeah man, you threw the stapler at me. Bad night I take it?" walking back towards the door he leans against it "Micky D's is still on the table man, we can talk over whatever the hell lead to-" he gestures at the room and Easton "-this back at my place. You can get showered up, you don't need to get back to Bennie smelling like you fell into a vat at the Jack Daniels distillery. You should thank Tina by the way, she called me to come get you before she went for the cops. Wouldn't have been good you ending up in the drunk tank."

Easton, hehs softly, kind of amused that he threw a stapler. He shouldn't be, but he is. He thinks about the fast food, "Good I don't think I ate today. Like any real food.." Now in a fresh black tee shirt and a gray longsleeve over it and a clean pair of jeans he nods, "Sounds good. Pretty sure I already texted her that I was crashing your place.. which was a fuckin lie but wasn't too keen on telling her I was planing to black out in my office." He sighs and says, "I owe Tina." Clearly this isn't the first time she's had to put up with his shit. He heads for the door, taking the bottle with though. He may be sober now, but he's not intending for that to last.

Geoff flashes a grin down at the stapler, and chuckles before looking back to Easton "What the hell is going on where you thought to yourself 'Yes, I'm going to get shitfaced in my office till Geoff comes to save me from myself'. It's not a very sound strategy." Once Easton is done changing, he begins to turn and head for the door "Not telling you to leave the bottle, but is that really going to help you out?" and with that he is walking out of the office and through the restaurant to his waiting truck.

Easton blows out incredulously, "My plan was to get shitfaced until I couldn't see straight and pass out on the couch. Screw this 'Geoff comes and saves me' shit." He shakes his head and says, "It's two years. Today. Since the accident, and Tom..." He doesn't add any verbs or additions, just Tom. He does add, "So the bottle's coming with me. Because fuck yes, I think it's going to help." He doesn't actually mean it but he's kind of pissed about being sobered up so abruptly and just contrarian enough right now to argue in favor of the booze.

Geoff gives a dismissive wave and warns "Fine, bring it but if you act like an asshat again I'm sobering you up just as quickly. We'll bring the dark men down on us and no one will be having a good time." and with that he climbs into his truck, and there is mcdonalds and enough small burgers to last till dawn, Geoff was going to get a frosty but the machine was broken.

Finally reaching the trailer they bundle in there, Geoff heading towards the fridge to grab a beer and crack it open "So, what can I do man? I'm not going to leave you to suffer on your own, and I'm not going to let you pickle your liver completely in one night either." From the back of the trailer comes a sleepy shiba inu pup, trotting up to sit by Geoff's foot and watch Easton with an alert caution.

Climbing into the truck Easton snaps, "Do I look like I'm having a fucking good time Turner?" He shakes his head and says, "They're already up my ass today. Might as well just bring it the fuck on at this point." He is quiet on the ride, even through the eating of small burgers, obviously agitated. The food does at least lessen the scowling though. But he does at least refrain from drinking in the truck.

Once they are to the trailer he brings in the bottle and puts in on the counter and looks at it. He sighs and gets a beer from the fridge instead. "Nothing." He gulps the beer and adds, "I should have fuckin expected this. Don't know why I thought it wouldn't be a dumpster fire of a day." He sighs but then tilts his head and smiles when he sees the pup. He squats down, despite the fact that it doesn't feel good on his knee, giving a soft "Hey boy." What problem can puppies not solve, right?

Erasmus looks up to Geoff to see if Easton is okay before trundling over to him to look up at him with a stoic gaze that only a shiba can manage "That would be Erasmus there, and she's a she. We decided on the name before we even got to the breeder." Geoff explains, with the we in question being obviously him and Harper. Walking over to the couch, Geoff crashes down on it and turns on the odd ball espn which is currently showing competitive lawn darts/

Easton ruffles the dog, very unceremoniously and scritches behind her ears. He pets her until she seems to get bored of him and then he straightens back up. He takes a breath out and then crashes down on the couch next to Geoff. He tilts his head at the screen and is about to complain about what the hell there watching but then can't help but comment, "Well that was a shit throw Susan."

Geoff gestures to the tv "Right, she totally botched that one. I'm not even sure how she qualified for nationals with such poor form." Geoff is talking out of his ass but he talks with /conviction/. Erasmus wonders over to curl up beside the couch and Geoff and watch the lawn darts with interest. Leaning in, Geoff grabs a burger from the bag and uses it gestures "So tell me more about what tats you want, I've been working on some sketches for you as my ideas of what's you've said, but I'm sure you've been thinking about it that much more."

"Seriously, she keeps playing like that, she's losing that precious K Mart sponsorship." Easton easily dips into 'knowledgeable' commentator mode as well. Easton starts to relax a little, some of the tension washing out of him finally. He thinks about the question of the ink and says, "Actually." It's not like he's fully thought this through, but that's fine, it's only permanent, "I think I need some script on sleeve somewhere. Just, 'You can't change the rules'" He looks back at the TV as if suddenly really interested in how Richard from Boise is going to fair. By way of explanation he says offhandedly, "It's the last thing Banks said." He just didn't know that until today. But then hating how maudlin that all sounds he looks back and says, "And what are you waiting for bust out the sketches. We need to get stumpy his spooky forest.."