(Untitled)

[thegreat_gatsby]

After having stayed here for over a year, agreeing to tend bar was the least Gatsby felt he could do in return for everything the bar had done for him. Taking up a position behind the bar (apron and all) he took a few moments to mull over drinks before putting up the specials board.

Specials
Summer Fling
The Lady in Red
Rolls-Royce
And, following a

Comments

[puckishly]

A slim young man, dressed in an ill-kept ensemble whose individual components date from the eighteenth and twentieth centuries respectively, laughs delightedly at the specials list.

"How perfectly preposterous," he says with a grin.

[thegreat_gatsby]

Gatsby, at that comment, looked back at the specials board, squinting slightly as though reassessing his choices in light of the young man's statement.

"You think so, old sport?"

[puckishly]

Puck looks sort of squirmily amused at the moniker, though he must admit that he is both old and, under some definitions, a sport.

"I mean no offense, of course," he says brightly. "'Tis simply that the assortment, when taken all together, makes for quite the afternoon."

[thegreat_gatsby]

It was something that Gatsby tended to call most of the male persuasion, more out of habit than anything else.

"Mm."

Wiping his hands on his apron, Gatsby smiled across the counter.

"Care for any part of it?"

[puckishly]

Puck smiles.

"Literally or metaphorically?"

[thegreat_gatsby]

An appreciative sort of smirk briefly crossed the temporary bartender's face.

"In terms of the drinks."

[puckishly]

"In that case--"

Puck coughs delicately and quite politely.

"Might I inquire as to what is in a Rolls-Royce?"

[thegreat_gatsby]

"Ah, gin, two kinds of vermouth, and benedictine."

If he remembered correctly.

[puckishly]

He wrinkles his nose.

"I think I shall have to try it. If you would be so kind."

He does like benedictine!

[thegreat_gatsby]

With a nod, Gatsby got around to finding the appropriate ingredients, bringing up a few bottles to the counter before beginning the appropriate steps.

"Might I inquire as to your name?"

[puckishly]

Puck laughs, leaning forward against the Bar-- lightly, as if he might push off and flutter away at any moment.

"You might, sir. Though it is my hope that once it is gotten of me, I shall be paid in kind with your own."

[thegreat_gatsby]

His manner certainly piqued Gatsby's curiosity. He'd only met so many people in bar, but none could be described to be as flighty as the man sitting in front of him.

"I wouldn't dream of otherwise."

[puckishly]

"In that case--"

He tilts his head, slightly, and smiles.

"I am called Puck, by those who have a will to't."

[thegreat_gatsby]

"Puck it is," Gatsby nodded, an entertained sort of curl to his lips.

"Jay Gatsby. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, old sport."

[puckishly]

... Hold up a minute.

Jay Gatsby?

How common a last name is Gatsby, anyway? (Remember a few years back when like every other boy was named Jason, and the girls were all named Britney?)

"An absolute joy," Puck says cheerfully.

[thegreat_gatsby]

(As a matter of fact, yes, the narration does remember that.)

"And, on that note ..."

Gatsby pushes the finished drink across the bar.

"Your Rolls-Royce."