Bobby, Alicia
A coffee shop with large windows and an outdoor patio might be asking for trouble in other parts of New York. In Upper East Side, a coffee shop without some air of affluence would just look tacky. Fortunately, this menu caters to both the college poor and the post-college rich, just as long as you're careful about what you order. Bobby has a reasonably straightforward coffee in his hand and is standing next to one of the wide windows. It's a fair night, black-skyed. Stars would be glittering if the streetlamps weren't in the way.
Working nights again means late night coffee again. The search for place that has decent coffee and doable prices has brought Alicia to this cafe. She pushes her way through the doors, looking tired, her usually immaculate uniform rumpled and wisps of hair escaping her ponytail. The paramedic walks up to the counter and orders, frowning to herself as she pays for a moderately ridiculously priced coffee.
Bobby brings the coffee up for a sip, only to find it tepid. Irritated, Bobby lifts the lid and peers inside. He presses it promptly closed again and walks back toward the counter.
Alicia turns away from the counter and is concentrating on her own vanilla flavored, extra sweet and light concoction, attempting to take a sip while manuevering her large orange duffle bag and not knock anything over in the process. Though after a full shift she is not as graceful as she could be.
No one would describe Bobby as a creature of grace. Not on first blow. But he's aware enough of his surroundings to just-deftly avoid a potential collision. Of course, in the process, he gets a fair look at Alicia's face and his expression alights with recognition. "Well, hello," he calls over his shoulder.
The greeting catches Ali in mid-sip and she hastily swallows, turning around to try and figure out if it's directed at her. "Uh, hello," she answers, sounding uncertain at first, then nodding as she remembers the face, if not quite the name. "Hey."
"Hey," Bobby repeats, and the initial brightness he greeted Alicia with has already dimmed. He points ambiguously to the cup in his hand and brings it up to the counter. "Hey, can you reheat this, maybe?"
Natalie is after a change in atmosphere. Wherever she's been previously, it's apparently not cutting it because here she is, graduate student with work tucked in the bag slung over her shoudler and hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail as she steps forward to stand in line. There is a moment when she eyes Bobby and his approach, coffee cup in hand, with mild irritation. Come now.
Deciding that the best way to avoid being a hazard to others is to get out of their way, Ali finds a table to sit at, dropping her bag and scooting it as close to her as she can get, though it still sticks out a little. Still a hazard, but at least it's bright orange and should be easily avoided. She watches the man, still wracking her brains to remember his name. B... starts with a B...
Apparently no. "Could I-- maybe get a refill?" Apparently no, not for free. Bobby mutters something that may be "thanks" and may be something rather more ruder (it is a slightly longer mutter than "thanks"), Bobby turns away. And there's Natalie! Well, who? Bobby takes a blink, perhaps startled by the ponytail. He's all in all a tiny bit dazey looking.
The ponytail is quite startling, we must admit. Natalie raises her brows slightly as she meets Bobby's gaze. "Are you done?" she wonders. A touch pointedly.
Alicia watches the tableau at the coffee counter, sipping her drink, recognizing Natalie only vaguely though she remembers the attitude a bit faster.
"What?" Bobby raises his cup, as if it might talk for him. Then, "Oh. Yes." He gestures hurredly toward the counter. "Go ahead."
Natalie studies Bobby for a moment, staring at him as if there is something slightly fishy in this answer. There is a pause and then a tip of her head, a slight lightening of her tone. "You sure?"
The caffiene seems to kicking in now and Ali finally remembers the man's name. Bobby! She considers calling to him, but refrains for the moment, idly kicking her bag with the toe of her foot. Maybe when he isn't at the counter. Wouldn't want to interrupt, after all.
"Ye-es," says Bobby and starts a-forward. "Go a/head/." Emphasis is maybe helpful, maybe not.
Natalie eyes Bobby once more and then sweeps her gaze back over her shoudler for a quick glance across the coffee shop before she shrugs and steps forward, brushing past him in her haste to the counter.
As Bobby walks away from the counter, Ali raises a hand in a slight waving gesture, beckoning him over. "Hey! Bobby, right? We've met briefly a couple of times." She sips her coffee, looking at him over the edge of her cup, "I would have said something earlier, but I just got out of work and couldn't remember your name for the life of me."
The brush causes something in Bobby's arm to misfire, right? His fingers, never /tight/ on the cup anyway, shift with Natalie's jostle, loosen, and the cup spills. Nice coffee all over the nice floor. Bobby blows out his breath. "Right," is possibly in answer to Ali.
Natalie staggers back, blinking at the splash as she turns into Bobby with dismay written on her face. "Oh-- crap, I'm sorry," she gushes, already bent to grab after the cup.
Alicia blinks as she watches the mishap and gathers up a handful of napkins to be helpful and help smear the coffee all over the formerly clean floor. Though it's still nice. She does try and stay out of the way, noting the long-suffering barista en route with a mop.
"No, it's okay." Bobby is stooping, himself. He can't be the one /not/ helping to clean up. That would be lazy and unchivalrous-- wait, it's his coffee. He snatches at one of Alicia's napkins anyway, if he smiles as he does it. "Really, it's okay. I was in your way."
Natalie's fingers curl around the coffee cup, damp and sticky now, and her bag swings heavily forward to bump at Bobby as she rocks back on her heels. "Still," she answers, and blows out a sigh as she glances up.
The barista hurries forward and starts mopping up the mess, the looks being directed at everyone showing that they're more in the way than helping. Taking the hint, Alicia ambles back to her table, shaking her head.
"Nnnmph." This is Bobby's response to the bag-bump, and to getting out of the way of the mop. He shakes his fingers off and sucks at his pinky. It's stubbornly still damp with coffee, shaking or no. He takes a few half directed steps before pausing again, staring toward the window.
"Shit-- /sorry/," Natalie says again, and she lifts her free hand to rake it back through her hair as she remains crouched, staring helplessly after the retreating Bobby before her gaze sweeps across the shop once more.
Alicia checks her watch and winces, swinging her bag back over her shoulder as she gets up out of her chair. Ali heads out of the shop, her own coffee still in hand as she tries to catch a cab to get home.
"It's fine," Bobby says, quieter. He wipes his hands on the side of his shirt and his eyes stay on the window a long moment before, coffeeless, he starts toward the door himself.
Natalie finally stands, uncomfortable, and shifts slightly with an unhappy frown as she extends the cup to a barrista for carrying off. She pauses, for a moment, to watch Bobby go.
Bobby half opens the door and half bangs through it. He might possibly be seen receding to the street and across it. No cab here.
Bobby is grand company. Also clumsy.