The Perk; Thursday Afternoon.

[ecirpnellehada]

The artist was coming over, which, of course, meant that the roommate needed an evacuation of the bedroom. For the most part, Adah didn't particularly mind. The urge to remain and be annoying like she and Leah had, once upon a time, planned on doing should Rachel ever bring a boy home, but that lost its appeal when she considered the fact that

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[george_m_bluth]

George Michael came in for a cup of coffee, or two. He closed down the stand for lunch and just wanted coffee. Head bowed, he ordered it and took his large hot mug to an out of the way table. There he would sit and drink it and contemplate his young life, such as it is.

[ecirpnellehada]

Eyes lifting from the page of Heinlein and through the steam still drifting up from her carefully cradled mug, Adah probably couldn't ignore the coffee shoppe's newest patron if she tried. The way he carried himself, the way he moved, the aura some might say (but not Adah, since she didn't believe in things like that, but their concepts worked well for comparisons) just seemed to demand a moment of her attention, to stare, with scrutiny, below a quirked eyebrow. The weight of the whole world on his frail, tiny spread of shoulders, she was sure, or at least in his own mine.

Adah eyes drifted away slightly. Wait? What was that she heard? It sounded, perhaps, like tiny violins, playing the worlds saddest song. So sad, so tragic...

She smirked to herself. She couldn't tease people she didn't know, but it was only in her own head, and distractions like that were what made it worth going out in public sometimes.

[george_m_bluth]

George Michael began to sort out his problems, unaware that he was causing a distraction for someone else.

"What if she was? I would run, no, wait, I wouldn't. I wouldn't. But she's older right? Her biological clock must be ticking. Like a timb bomb. Does she want... no... oh god." he rubbed his brow. "I'm thinking too much. It's too hard."

[ecirpnellehada]

Oh, Dog. Adah sunk slightly in her comfortable chair to better hide the increasing smirk as the distressed soul started to leak. She'd never understand it; it reminded her almost of Rachel, complaining just to hear the sound of her own voice. But slightly different. She'd never comprehend how people with, assumingly, a perfectly whole, completely working brain seemed to have such difficulty just keeping things inside of it. She really should have some sort of respect for people's personal space, but...well, it was a public sphere, and Adah had no shame. Besides, it was his own fault for making his ramblings so intriguing. She placed a folded piece of paper into the crease of the book; a nudge of her shoulder closed it in her lap and she curled around her tea. Space travel could wait; she'll just put off giving it to the Eel to finish it. It was time to hopefully eavesdrop on what she was hoping would be some interesting neurosis.

[george_m_bluth]

After taking a sip of coffee that burned the tip of his tongue, George Michael focused down at the steaming brown surface. "Take extra precautions. How do you do that? There are times when spontaneity rules my head and I just lose control of -- maybe I should see someone. Maybe I should talk to Stan the doctor man." He snorted. "Wait. What? There's nothing wrong with me. I'm young. I just don't want a babymama yet. Is that so wrong? I just got divorced..."

[ecirpnellehada]

Definitely more entertaining than space travel. Adah carefully sipped at her tea, after blowing a little onto it to cool it slightly, and comfortably settled in to listen to more rants, should there be more. Even if there wasn't, it had been more than sufficient so far. Did he even realize he was talking to himself? In a public place? Where people...ghosts, perhaps; it wouldn't be the first time Adah'd been a ghost...would hear his ramblings about spontaneity, babymama's, divorce. It wasn't so much the subject matter that surprised her and lifted a little bit of doubt in the validity of these ravings. People in Kilanga who where younger than her when she moved there had families. It was more the source than the situation.

[george_m_bluth]

Mostly he kept his rambling out loud to the quiet time he spent in his morning showers. Today was an exception to that rule. Today was way too big for him to keep his minds mouth shut. Last night had not gone well. Tonight might not go well either -- "How can I compare to a billion other guys? I hardly know what I'm doing. I kind of miss Ride the Pony. And maybe the money." He paused, took a sip of coffee. "No I don't. What am I saying? I love her, I really do. I'm nineteen. Only nineteen."

[ecirpnellehada]

Adah's head tilted a little in satisfaction as her suspicion that he couldn't be a day over twenty had been confirmed. She sipped her tea; she should introduce this guy to Orleanna. Ah, the siren call of fertile, apparently easy older women, indeed. How many lives, she wondered in her overspeculating and dramatics-driven mood, have been shattered by their time-tuned wiles, indeed? How many other nineteen year old divorcees were talking into their coffee in small shopped with comfortable chairs at this very moment. You wouldn't get a show like this in Africa; no, there people worried about stepping out of their door and getting shot, or of finding dinner to feed their family. Only in places like America could someone bear witness to something like that. Adah sort of hated how fascinated she was by it. But she also loved it.

[george_m_bluth]

"I will not become like Uncle GOB. I won't. I won't steal someone elses girl, either." Though George Michael shuddered over the slight thought of Ann. What had he been thinking?

Pushing his cup aside, he rested his head in his hand once more, but just as he was doing that, he noticed someone else in the shop. A girl. A slight girl who was staring at him.

His face turned a million shades of red.

[ecirpnellehada]

Ah, yes, and it was moments like that, shades of red those colors that only occur at times like this, those rare expressions of realization where every thought that had previously been spoken spanned the extent of a human face, that made listening to all those inane ramblings worth it. Unable to keep a nearly triumphant, though crooked, grin from her face, Adah thought to give the boy a small wave, but the mug of tea in her hand prevents that. So, instead, to acknowledge him and the fact that, yes, she'd heard thing, she lifted her mug, almost in a toast to his excellent melodrama, and a nod of her head. Thank you for the entertainment; take your bow. Encore! Encore!

[george_m_bluth]

George Michael was stunned into immobility. He swallowed and tried to focus on being friendly. That yes, it was okay she heard; that she didn't know who he was; that he was just any Joe-Bloke off the street who came in for a cup of coffee. All of that except for the mere fact that his shirt had the banana stand logo embroidered on the upper left breast pocket. He shifted now, trying to hide that fact as he made his hand move, up it went as he sort of moved it in a semblance of a wave.

He felt an explanation was in order. "Sometimes I talk to myself..." Uhhh. Yeah, even his ears were burning. He was completely on fire and it didn't help that, to give him something to do with his hands, he picked up his coffee and took a big gulp.

[ecirpnellehada]

Oh, really? Adah's grin spread a little more as her head tilted in curiosity. And here she thought this whole time that he had a magical cup of coffee that he could confide in. She bit her lower lip for a moment as she kept her eyes on him; there was a small, silent laugh as she figured that she should perhaps let off a little. It wasn't as if he could get any more awkward. Or could he? She should never rule things out, so she kept her gaze steady even as she imitated his move of taking a sip of his drink.

[george_m_bluth]

She was grinning at him. Great. He's made a gigantic fool of himself and it's going to be on the radio and Mary's going to hear it and, yeah, great. George Michael inwardly groaned and looked down, then back at her, then down again until he just couldn't help but keep his eyes on her. He chuckled nervously. "Usually I'm private, you know, with the talking to myself. I'm reflective when I drink coffee ..." He should just get up and go. Get up and go right now. "... I'm on my lunch break."

[ecirpnellehada]

It became pretty clear, in the fact that he kept talking well after the whole ordeal of switching his eyes back and forth, forth and back, that this was a case of a person with a lot on their mind, willing to talk to anything that would listen and wouldn't talk back. Just to get it out, without judgment, and that's why he was talking to her now instead of the coffee. She would judge, but the judgment would be silent. When she realized that she wasn't immediately annoyed or offended by this, her nose wrinkled and she realized that she was getting way too social. Her eyes drifted toward where she knew a clock hung on the wall, to see what time it was, before they drifted back and resumed a cool, unassuming look toward the babbling young man. She wasn't quite sure what she meant by it, so she wasn't sure what she was conveying. She'd felt that she would normally use the look to say, well, then, better get going. Wouldn't be late. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out because when things went from eavesdropping to directly

[george_m_bluth]

His eyes, did in fact, follow her's, and he noticed the clock, took note of the time. George Michael stood abruptly, hand moving to the back of his neck in a shy sort of fashion as he glanced at her, then at the door. "I'm sorry if I offended your quiet." Then he made a beeline out of there. Work was work and he had to be back at it.

Damn his rambling.