John Reese (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stellen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2015-02-12 10:01 am
stellen) wrote in maskormenacelogs2015-02-12 10:01 am
[OPEN] I just met you, and you're in training
WHO: John Reese & whoever stops by to torture him
WHERE: "The Grind", a coffee shop near the porter in De Chima
WHEN: From 6am-3pm today
WHAT: John's first day on the job as the worst barista in history
WARNINGS: Terrible customer service & possible violence
Conveniently located at the edge of downtown near the military base and porter, The Grind is your typical De Chima coffee shop and one of five shops sprinkled across the city. It caters to busy, important people going about their busy, important lives and offers quick service and a wide variety of hot drinks and gourmet pastries.
The atmosphere is young and cautiously trendy. Popular, but not overplayed songs on a carefully curated playlist create a mellow yet funky mood. It invites people to bring their computers and pretend to work, gossip with friends over a pretentious cup or simply pay too much for a croissant and be on their way.
The staff are bright, youthful and used to dealing with the steady flow of students, doctors and lawyers that make up the neighbourhood. They memorize your overly complicated drinks, do their best to pretend they care about your day and might even know you by name- they'll ask for it if they don't. Because you're a customer, not a number.
At least, most of the staff.
There's one barista that just doesn't seem to fit in. It could be that he's twenty-five years older and a foot taller than the girl at the cash register, or maybe just because he sucks at his job. He wears a bright gold tag that says 'TRAINING' right over the one that says 'John' with a drawn-on smiley face.
He screws up every drink. He wipes down the tables half-assedly and sweeps without even looking at the floor. He barely fits behind the counter and he keeps hitting his head on hanging light fixtures and bumping into people. He'll write your name down wrong, or replace it with 'glasses' or 'woman with baby'. When he says "Have a nice day" he does it with a frayed, empty sort of smile that might make you reconsider showing your face this side of town ever again.
He's too big, too old and too haggard to be doing what he's doing and he hates every minute of it, but for one reason or another he's still there- and he's your barista.
WHERE: "The Grind", a coffee shop near the porter in De Chima
WHEN: From 6am-3pm today
WHAT: John's first day on the job as the worst barista in history
WARNINGS: Terrible customer service & possible violence
Conveniently located at the edge of downtown near the military base and porter, The Grind is your typical De Chima coffee shop and one of five shops sprinkled across the city. It caters to busy, important people going about their busy, important lives and offers quick service and a wide variety of hot drinks and gourmet pastries.
The atmosphere is young and cautiously trendy. Popular, but not overplayed songs on a carefully curated playlist create a mellow yet funky mood. It invites people to bring their computers and pretend to work, gossip with friends over a pretentious cup or simply pay too much for a croissant and be on their way.
The staff are bright, youthful and used to dealing with the steady flow of students, doctors and lawyers that make up the neighbourhood. They memorize your overly complicated drinks, do their best to pretend they care about your day and might even know you by name- they'll ask for it if they don't. Because you're a customer, not a number.
At least, most of the staff.
There's one barista that just doesn't seem to fit in. It could be that he's twenty-five years older and a foot taller than the girl at the cash register, or maybe just because he sucks at his job. He wears a bright gold tag that says 'TRAINING' right over the one that says 'John' with a drawn-on smiley face.
He screws up every drink. He wipes down the tables half-assedly and sweeps without even looking at the floor. He barely fits behind the counter and he keeps hitting his head on hanging light fixtures and bumping into people. He'll write your name down wrong, or replace it with 'glasses' or 'woman with baby'. When he says "Have a nice day" he does it with a frayed, empty sort of smile that might make you reconsider showing your face this side of town ever again.
He's too big, too old and too haggard to be doing what he's doing and he hates every minute of it, but for one reason or another he's still there- and he's your barista.
no subject
This next customer looked younger and less entitled than the previous flock. He was caught off-guard by the simple, human statement and the smile on the kid's face.
He stares at him for a moment, his steel-blue eyes narrowed and his weathered face hard- but then he returns the expression as best he can, given the circumstances. ]
Afternoon. Uh, can I help you?
... Welcome to Grinds.
[ Nailed it. Who needed a script? ]
no subject
Uh, yeah. Just wanted to get a coffee? Medium's fine.
[He's pretty sure this place has specific names for the sizes, but if this guy's really as tired and done as he looks, he probably doesn't care. Anything to make his life easier and for Tadashi to get his coffee.]
no subject
[ He was too tired to write 'Guy in the hat' on the side of his cup, so all Tadashi got was a hasty scribble of an actual hat. John appreciates the simplicity of Tadashi's order.
The industrial sized machines were complicated and he had almost lost a hand trying to grind the beans, but thankfully there was enough left in the pot for one more order. It was Tadashi's lucky day.
All John had to do was pour it. He knew how disarm bombs, speak in multiple languages and kill a man with just his thumb- this was nothing.
For what felt like the first time that day John did something right. He's in the middle of turning around to hand Tadashi the cup when one of his coworkers also turns around and crashes directly into his chest.
The coffee is everywhere but in the cup. It's on John, on the crying blonde girl running into the back, all over the floor and probably on Tadashi too. ]
...If you can wait five minutes, there's another pot. I think.
[ He's going to snap. ]
no subject
It's fine! Taaaake your time, I gotta -- [He gestures to the new coffee fashion design on his shirt and the nearby napkin tin, still smiling though this one's a bit more strained -- coffee is still hot no matter the universe.] I'll be right back?
[This poor guy looks like he needs a minute to breathe and get cleaned up himself, he'll just grab some napkins and start working on his shirt.]
no subject
Treatment was simple enough, but on second thought, probably not the most comfortable considering the situation. Too bad he thought about that part after he had grabbed the pitcher of ice water, leapt over the bar like some kind of gazelle and dumped it down the front of Tadashi's shirt.
It was cold. Really cold. ]
Doesn't look like it's going to stain.
[ He offers a wan smile. ]
no subject
John, you try so hard. Tadashi gets that, you're trying so hard to do right and he can't be mad at all.
But he freezes when the water hits, soaked to the bone now, head to waist. Whatever didn't make it on him is on the floor around them now, other patrons having jumped out of the way.
Great day, really.
He may not be mad, but he is getting a little irritated. Enough that his shirt is already steaming a little with his own heat trying to dry it out.]
Nnno, I don't think it will.