Maybe Ben's in a better mood then usual, or just figuring out that if he's stuck here might as well make the best of it, but anyways he's moseying on up to the bar, hands jammed in his pockets, not lookin' a whole let better'n the bartender on the shaving front neither.
He slides onto a stool, nods his greetings and glances at the board. Maybe studies it a bit longer'n most, but he ain't exactly the best reader. Finally he looks up at John and there's maybe something like a smile, says "Y'got a favorite?"
(He maybe don't exactly look underage, but he don't look exactly like an adult neither. The sparkles in his hair he didn't quite manage to pry out aren't helping.)
"Beer," he says, after a second 'cause he don't think he got the money for whiskey, gotta keep his tab down if he thinks he's gonna pay it off on a roustie's salary.
And in the end he ain't so much of a drinker, Ma never holding for it (not that it stopped him but he didn't so much like the way it made him feel), so, he figures, better not go for the hard shit, not tonight.
And besides, he's got questions he wants to ask, so he hesitates another moment then says "You lookin' to hire?"
"I wish, son," John says. He pulls the pint and slides it over. "I'm not the Barman here, I'm just filling in. You been here long?" He slides a cigarette from his packet and offers it to the young man.
Ben nods his thanks, pulls a battered lighter from his coat pocket and lights up, takin' a long drag before tryin' the beer. It's good, maybe not exactly his style but still good.
"Nah," he says, taps ash off the end of the cigarette and props an elbow on the bar. "Couple weeks. Need some cash."
John nods. "Been there. I don't suppose I have to give you the run down, then. There's money to be had if a lad wants to work. What do you do, when you're at home?"
"Worked on my Ma's farm, mostly." Ain't gonna say chain gang 'cause he ain't proud of it and he knows he's still wanted for skipping it, wanted for the guard got in his way who ain't gettin' in no one's way no more.
"Got a job with a carnival show, but only a few days 'fore I came here."
He slides onto a stool, nods his greetings and glances at the board. Maybe studies it a bit longer'n most, but he ain't exactly the best reader. Finally he looks up at John and there's maybe something like a smile, says "Y'got a favorite?"
(He maybe don't exactly look underage, but he don't look exactly like an adult neither. The sparkles in his hair he didn't quite manage to pry out aren't helping.)
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John was drinking at 15. He's not a man to judge.
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And in the end he ain't so much of a drinker, Ma never holding for it (not that it stopped him but he didn't so much like the way it made him feel), so, he figures, better not go for the hard shit, not tonight.
And besides, he's got questions he wants to ask, so he hesitates another moment then says "You lookin' to hire?"
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"Nah," he says, taps ash off the end of the cigarette and props an elbow on the bar. "Couple weeks. Need some cash."
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"Got a job with a carnival show, but only a few days 'fore I came here."
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