Participants:
| Scene Title | Interview |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Adam Interview Isis for a job. |
| Date | May 29, 2009 |
Dim yellow light accents natural wood floors and rough brick walls, the interior design that lends to a warm and old-world atmosphere. While foreigners would balk at the notion of calling this place a pub, due to its strictly Americanized layout, the patrons here are comfortable with the level of decour being just European enough to accent the stout served behind the bar. Biddy Flannagan's is a local fixture here in the Upper East Side, a place of welcome respite for the thousands of upper and middle-class residents of the neighborhood to come and share a pint amidst a comfortable and warm atmosphere.
Inside of the pub, it's hard to tell whether it's day or night outside, with thick burgundy curtains covering the front windows, and the deeper recesses of the pub near the bar shrouded in the smoky air darker still, creating a certain ambiance that lends itself to drinking.
Adam is behind the bar when Isis walks in. He's trying to do tricks like in cocktail. And, to be fair to Adam, he's great at tossing the bottles and catching them. Unfortunately, he's clearly not a bartender, because they always land on the wrong side. He shakes his head and looks up for a moment, "Yes…hallo.." he pauses and then looks at a paper on the bar counter top, "Ah, Isis, yeah?"
Isis steps up to the bar, peeling off a brown-leather bomber jacket meant to keep the night's chill at bay. She gives a simple nod that sets a few crimson curls dancing against her cheeks and extends a small hand. "That's me." Her pale lips draw up in a smile that seems to warm her pale features from within.
Adam nods a bit and considers the hand. He takes it after a moment and shakes it, "Alright, Isis." he says, "You got your resume with you? Your references?" the bar is apparently closed right now. The sign outside said something about renovations and new management. He sits down on a stool behind the bar and lays either hand on the bartop, making him look like some sort of makeshift judge.
Isis mimics the man in taking a seat on her designated side of the bar. "Of course," she replies with an easy tone, digging under the folds of her discarded jacket to retrieve a little manila folder. "All of my references and job history are from Massachusetts, including my certification under the 'ServeSafe' program. But, I assume there isn't much, or any even, variations in the laws between here and there." She slides the paper work over. She leans back on her seat, taking a moment to straighten her gloves around her fingertips with a meticulous attention before looking up to Adam from beneath the fan of her dark lashes.
Adam really doesn't know much about running a bar. He has no idea how liquor licenses are handled or anything like that. So, he picks up her paperwork and gives it a solemn looking over and nods, "Ah, yes, yes, everything looks to be in order." he puts the paper down after a moment, "So, when we call your references, what do you think will say is your best quality?"
Isis's first reply is an amused chuckle before she smoothes her expression into a more interview-worthy arrangement. "My personality. My rather outgoing presence makes it rather easy to keep the customers chatting, keeping them ordering, but also assures I'm not a push over when it comes to handling… the more rowdy members." She gives a simple nod to affirm her statement and leans forward, resting her elbows on the counter.
"Oh, indeed. That's important." he pauses after a few moments, "And what sort of.." he pauses, "What sort of problems have you had in the past?" he questions, "Got any stalkers? Any mafia guys put the hit out on you?" he points at Isis with his fingers shaped like a gun, "This is a high class establishment. We can't have any of that nonsense here, yeah?"
Isis chuckles lightheartedly and leans back, the man's comment seeming to set her in a more casual and comfortable mood. "Little me? In trouble with the mafia?" She grins and waves a hand. "My only issues have been your run-of-the-mill drunkards, I'm afraid. I'm not worth the effort to stalk, and not worth the hassle when you get on my bad side." She grins playfully.
Adam nods approvingly, "Alright. That's a good start." he says as he hmms, "So, like, you know all the drinks in the manual?" apparently he believes there is a single manual for bartenders, "Know how to make a cosmopolitan or a mojito or whatever it is poofters drink?" apparently he expects poofters in this bar.
"Poofters?" Isis lofts a brow in a playful jest of the term, but ultimately offers a simple nod. "Cosmos, mojitos, martinis of many varieties - all the frilly drinks I've only dreamed of serving in prior jobs, with all the naughtily named drinks I've frequently seen ordered in the past."
Adam ahs, "Good. Well, you know, this is the upper east side. I don't know exactly who the clientele would be, but I imagine it'd be professionals and poofters and…" he waves a hand dismissively, "Whoever else happens upon this fine establishment." he drums his knuckles upon the surface of the bar counter. He tilts his head, "So, why'd you move to here of all places from Massachusetts…aren't you aware a bomb went off here? And criminals own an island?"
Isis's expression seems significantly less carefree, despite her efforts to keep a friendly smile plastered on her pale lips. "The bomb had a great affect in my life once… I needed a change and thought this would be the area for it." She chuckles gently, trying to brush off the heavy topic with a casual roll of her bare shoulders. "Can you blame me? It's an amazing city."
Adam mmms a bit at that, "It's a dangerous city." he says in reply. "You might want to keep that in mind. Fires and gunfights and men who don't know when to toss grenades.." he pauses, "Well, I suppose if you've thought that out." he looks over Isis carefully. He's either measuring her up or checking her out. He might be doing both, but in the end, "Alright. Well, I can't tell you you've got the job. I'm helping out the owner and she has final say, yeah? But I'll put in the good word and then we'll look over your references, give them calls and what not and…well, if it all works out, I presume you'll get the job…or a second interview maybe?" he scratches the back of his neck as if he's not sure, "Either way, we'll contact you." he pauses, then looks back to Isis as if suddenly something important occured to him, "How do you feel about Evolved? You aren't one of those Humanis First whackos, are you?"
Isis offers a slight nod to each detail of the ongoings of the pub. "I hadn't pegged you as the head bartender, that's for sure," she offers in return, only to have that devilishly sweet smile of hers wiped from her face by the abrupt question. She clears her throat with a little cough, finding herself faced with this caustic topic for the first time. "I think Evolved are the future of the human race," she admits on a carefully plain tone, calculating each word with a notable care before continuing. "And, no, I'm not a close-minded, idiot that you'd have to be to claim a part in Humanis First." She rolls her shoulders as if the mere mention of the group brought a tension to her slight, slender frame, the first hint of tonality and sinew visible in her small build.
Adam is suddenly very different from the haphazard job interviewer he just was. His gaze is sharp and slowly calculating. He studies the red haired woman quietly, thoughtfully…perhaps even predatorily. But then, after some moments, he says, "Alright, Isis." he says, "Good…can't have any of that crazy stuff going on in here. No signs or what not, broken windows and the like." he says, ,in a tone which one might almost call ominous, "I'll be in touch, yeah?"
The look given to the little redhead inspires the first wandering gaze of her own, igniting the subconscious defense of sizing up the man in turn. The only thing her examination reveals, though, is an attractive man. She chuckles at her own paranoia, masking it with a fluid grace that brings her to her feet as she combs her fingers through lively, sanguine curls. She leans across the bar, presenting her gloved hand again. "Sounds great. It was a pleasure to meet you… I don't think I caught your name?"
Adam smiles and shakes the hand, "Adam," he says, "Like the first man." he chuckles dismissively and nods, "Good to meet you too Isis." and with that, picks up a pair of bottles and starts his game all over again.
Isis nods and steals a step back as she gathers her things, watching the man's efforts with an unabashed curiosity. She grins as she turns to leave, glancing back over the crescent of her bare shoulder and the canvass of her tattooed back. "If you ever want some pointers," she offers in little tease, "my numbers on the resume." She tugs back on her jacket and makes for the door.