"L-linguine alfredo!" She blurted out, not wanting to make him wait. He was so excited, after all... and it was one of the cheaper pastas. She didn't want to take advantage of his generosity.
"Ah, si-si, muy bueno." He pressed his fingertips together, hand-upright, shaking it in her direction.
"H-heh..." She chuckled meekly. Was that supposed to be Italian? Sounded... Spanish.
"Certainly," Tammy wrote it down with a smile, "I'll be back with your order!"
"Oh, a glass of water please." Chris added before she left.
"Yes, be right back." She nodded and left, hoping the guy won't be an instance of 'dine n' dash.'
"Mmgh... mmh..." He tipped his pint of Guinness back and, swallow by swallow, his throat undulated as the glass half-emptied. "H'ahhhh, damn..." He shook his head, his cheeks reddened. "Cannot... articulate... how damned delicious that is." He looked to the half-beer in his hand.
"It kinda looks like Coke," she looked at her own drink, which she'd only had a small sip of. "But without the bubbles." There was a creamy top on his drink, and no carbonation-bubbles to be seen. Her own cola had a fizzy top that looked different, and bubbles occurring inside the glass chalice.
"Yeah, a bit, though not as sweet." He glanced to her as she studied the two beverages. "Want a sip?"
"O-oh, uh... well... sure, I guess. Heh..." She watched him slide his drink towards her, and as she brought her own hand to the glass of beer, she could distinctly see just how much larger his hand was compared to hers. She glanced to him shyly, to make sure he was okay with her drinking some of his beer. He seemed to...reallylike it.
"Cheers!" He rose his mostly-empty shot glass to her, and tilted it back to his mouth to let the last little droplets of liquor slip down.
"Ch-cheers!" She rose his glass quickly, and took a sip. "Mmgh... mm-blegh..." She shook her head, putting it down and grasping her own glass as she pushed his towards him. She washed the bitter, thick beer down with some refreshing, sweet cola.
"Hah-hah! Yeah, a bit of an acquired taste." He nodded, rather expecting that reaction. "That's cute, gonna be interesting getting used to having a little sis." He took a swig and gave a happy sigh. "Eighteen, bloody Hell... I'm over a decade older than you. If I grew my beard out again, might even look old enough to be your dad."
"Hmh, you had a beard?" she asked, amused.
"Yeah, for a while inside. Thought I'd try it out. A biker who got in not long after came up to me and asked if I was with his crew that he'd joined. Nah..." He shook his head. "Good fellows though, those grease monkeys."
"G-grease monkeys?" She laughed, imagining a stuffed animal bearing that name, but knowing there’s no way that could be anywhere near that cute and cuddly when having anything to do with being inside a prison.
"It's what some folks are called who are into vehicles, though I suppose more specifically into repairing or maintaining 'em. Y'know, like mechanics."
"Ohhhh, I understand. 'Grease monkeys,' hah." She laughed at the term.
"Yeah, like 'range monkeys.'" He explained further. "At shooting ranges, a lot of guys just leave their brass behind. Er, their casings, the piece that comes out of the gun when it fires. But some people reload casings to make live rounds again." He gestured as he explained it, speaking very clearly and confidently. "So, some folks, they'll squat down and pick up brass casings from the ground to take home and make ammo from. Had a friend who did that, he found the term comical, even adopted it. If everyone else left and we were the last ones there, he'd be hopping around in a squat position, going 'ooo-ooo, ahh-ahh.'" He even elevated his pitch as he quoted his friend, high-pitched like a chimp.
She'd found the imagery of a big masculine guy at a gun range, squatting like a monkey and picking stuff up, to be rather hilarious. But when she witnessed the massive fellow in front of her actually make those monkey-noises and act like he's wide-eyed, mindlessly picking up things from the table, she snorted and laughed. Had to cover her mouth, embarrassed at her outburst.
"Haw-haw-haw!" He guffawed, holding his drink that was nearly finished while hers was barely touched. "Haven't seen something so damn adorable in years! Ju-... Julia?"
"J-Julie." She corrected, still covering her mouth.
"Julie. You're bloody adorable." He clinked his nearly-finished pint of beer against her cola, and swigged the rest down.
4
He had her smiling and giggling for pretty much their entire experience at the restaurant. Hisveryslight stagger was amusing to her, the thought of him falling on top of her was frankly terrifying but well he didn't seem anywhere near that tipsy. He was all smiles, grinning ear-to-ear, chatting her up as they waited for a cab, talking to her like she was his best friend even though it was the first time they'd met.
She didn't know how much time had passed, the sun was quite low. He led the way into the liquor store while the cab waited outside, picked up a bottle of dark rum and, after taking a step towards the registers, glanced to her, and turned back towards the selection before him. He grabbed a bottle of Malibu coconut rum as well.
Asked for an ID, he presented his to the cashier. She looked at it a moment.
"It's expired," she informed him.
"Oh, uh... heh. Yeah, I uh... I-I just... got out of......" His blushing grin died down, "Out of jail... been in there for a while."
The middle-aged woman glanced to the young girl beside him and back to him.