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RAYMOND WHIT || 19 || THIEF & BUSBOY || ------------------------------------------ Curiosity killed the cat by slamming the door on his back. [ the wooden nickel rpg ]

[raymondwhit-blog]

edieehoward:

“Sure thing they would, but dancing with patrons is surely looked down upon, wouldn’t y’think?” She straightens, crossing her arms and scrunching up her nose.

          “Dunno, I’m not usually out ‘n about after ma shift.” Is it? Raymond isn’t sure really, but he doubts that management would notice at this hour with the smoke and music creating a hypnotic allure that makes it hard to focus on just one thing.

[raymondwhit-blog]

gideononwatch:

Gideon held up his hands. “Good call. Dancing with me could get you a broken foot.” He joked. “I actually wanted to know if you wanted another drink, you look like you could do with one.”

          Oh, whoops. Blue hues look more brown in the dim lighting as they raise to fix on the guard before shoulders shrug, on hand knocking back crystal as he downs the dregs of his drink. “Sure, why not?”

[raymondwhit-blog]

edieehoward:

“C’mon, kiddo. Tell me work ain’t drowned out that spirit.” Edie grins at him and leans a hand against the table, trying to catch his eye. “One dance? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

          “’m sure plenty other lads would love to dance with ya, Edie. Really.” Raymond casts a quick glance around the still packed speakeasy as if to prove his point. 

[raymondwhit-blog]

marcus-van-doren:

“— Hey, I didn’t see you there,” he offered a subtle smile as he sat by himself on wet pavement, peering up at the other. “I’m sorry, did you need something?”

        “Wasn’t supposed to, actually. Kinda ma job to remain unseen.” The young man responds, hefting his bucket of dirty dishwater at his side. “Nuttin’ ya can do. Shame ‘bout this rain, though.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

          The sound of heels hardly has the busboy glancing upwards from a nearly empty glass. “Sorry, doll. I don’t dance.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

dottieyourwaitress:

“Poor man.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. It had been a long time since she had had a good relationship herself so she understood his pain. Most of hers ended up in him cheating and her sitting in her apartment, eating way too much vanilla ice cream.

          “’e’ll get over it soon enough. Better than ‘er pretending to be interested, in m’ opinion.” Another gulp of tepid water and the busboy leans back a bit in his chair, fingers toying with fluted glass as the musicians strike up a new song. “So, got anyone in your sights tonight, Dottie?”

[raymondwhit-blog]

dottieyourwaitress:

Dottie took a look around the room before taking a seat across from her coworker, crossing her slim legs as she listened to him,”There are other fish in the sea, I’m sure he’ll find a good ‘ne for himself. We all will one day.”

          Raymond just shrugs again, blue eyes flickering over to where the busboy scrubs a bit too furiously at a spill on one of the immaculate tablecloths. “Tell that to ‘im, I suppose. Complete broken ’earted.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

virginiahenderson:

“Do not ever scare me like that! Were you expecting to give me a heart attack?”

          “Sorry, doll, Just tryin’ to grab those glasses there --bit of a shortage in the back ‘ere.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

dottieyourwaitress:

“No fun, Ray.” She pouted,”I like my theatrics.” Dottie teased before her playfulness died down a bit,”Oh no, the poor man. Maybe I should be servin’ him and not you.”

          “’m sure the patrons love it too.” Maybe he’s being a bit of a wet blanket here, but the busboy still isn’t overly pleased at coming into the hot, smokey club for no reason --and it’s not like he can sneak a bit o’ giggle water under the counter either. He, unfortunately, must remain sober. “Maybe, but between me and ya, he stuck on the wrong gal, there. Shoulda known she’s too ritzy for him.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

theladymonclair:

“Oh!”Vera exclaimed and quickly moved to the side with her drink. “I’m so sorry,I think I’m the one that’s in the way,hogging the whole table while you’re trying to work. Would you like me to move? I can always sit somewhere else.” Vera sais with a warm smile.

          The patrons are never the ones at fault, even if they stumble head first completely tanked into a table and shatter all the expensive glassware on top. Even that’s your fault somehow --but the patron? They’re always perfect. So it’s with a bit of a slacken glaze that Raymond looks up at the woman before pasting a smile over his surprise and shaking his head. “No worries, doll. Ya‘re just fine where ya are. This ya first time ‘ere?”

[raymondwhit-blog]

--

[raymondwhit-blog]

edieehoward:

“Sure that’d help us all, to level with you.” Her free hand touches at her hair in an effort to be sure it hasn’t escaped carefully placed curls. “Must look a little odd, bunch’a people all dolled up vanishing into an alley. ‘Least the hotels probably distract from that.”

      “Maybe they think ya off to get some good cash, if ya know what I mean.” The jest is followed by a short laugh, eyes darting quickly from the waitress to the still mostly empty white tables waiting for their patrons. “Or they just don’t give a damn ---even them police could use a bit o’ booze now and then.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

edieehoward:

“You men sure are lucky for it, too. It’s a right pain to get here all dressed up without smudgin’ or breaking something. You ever tried to walk quiet in heeled shoes?” She knows he hasn’t and isn’t honestly expecting an answer as the glass is tipped against her lips once more, drinking the strong alcohol in it with a deep swallow. “It’s impossible.”

          He’s lucky that he isn’t a waiter either --busboys are supposed to be rather unremarkable, forgettable and insignificant. Raymond sits back up straight on his stool, hands going almost subconsciously to smooth out his white apron. “Can’t say I have. Too bad we’re not in Tin Pan Alley, ‘uh? You’d ‘ave all that music to cover ya.”

[raymondwhit-blog]

bowmanrose

“Well, well, what have we here?”

          “If ya want ‘er address just say so.” It’s more an offhand comment, whispered into an empty glass that still smells faintly of booze than for the woman herself.

[raymondwhit-blog]

gideononwatch:

Gideon took the last swig of his drink and set his glass down. “It’s not too bad, you’d probably need a coat if you were going outside. Some nice waitress will probably bring us tea or somethin’ to warm us up later.”

          Another glass carefully picked up and set onto his tray, head tilted slightly as he still pauses at the side of the table. “Better than this ‘otbox them. Take it you’re on ‘til the end of the night then?”

[raymondwhit-blog]

edieehoward:

“I got an ounce of professionalism to me, I’m not gonna get smashed on the job.” The most she ever drank was just a glass or two of whatever was most easily sneaked off a tray or table. A soft smile crawls across Edie’s lips and she gives the boy a nod. “Sure thing. ‘Specially when you’re walking around on these things.” A nod towards her feet signals that she’s talking about the pinching shoes that always sting her toes and ankles.

          “Never said ya weren’t.” The allusion to her heeled shoes --not visible from his vantage point leaning heavily on his arms planted on his knees, but certainly uncomfortably there as her lips were rouge-- has Raymond’s mouth quirking in a rueful smile. “’mmm yeah. No lies, I’m glad I don’t have to get dolled up for my job.”

[entertainingtheidea-deactivated]

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