We Don't Serve No Stinking Bitch-Drinks


abby_icon.gif ben_icon.gif deckard_icon.gif niki_icon.gif teo_icon.gif vivienne_icon.gif

Scene Title We Don't Serve No Stinking Bitch-Drinks
Synopsis Patrons and workers at Old Lucy's meet the newest bartender complete with her own set of rules.
Date December 21, 2008

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads an apartment on the floor above the bar.

Abby's late. Very late. This isn't boding well for the blonde. What with her self imposed goody two shoes meter which internally doesn't care that the last few days have been murder on her system and her energy. That she's spent every moment when not working or in transit, sleeping or eating, healing, sleeping, eating, showering. Lots of sleeping. As it is, her little self proclaimed support system that is Italian Stallion: Teo enters into the bar with her, Abby stamps off the snow from her boots, trying to get in the proper mood and frame of mind to tend bar tonight.

The crowd is fairly steady tonight, for a Sunday, as people shout out their orders in rapid succession. The owner doesn't really appear to be anywhere in sight, in her stead, Vivienne barks out orders to a few of the temps — pushing them aside almost rudely as she hurries to pick up the pace. The sight of more patrons earns a lift of her head, calling on out, "What's your poison? We got a bit of red, spot of black, or mixes to make your head spin. Don't do rocks, though, only straight up here… you want softer — there's a fucking Burger King down the street serving kiddie drinks." The young woman reaches out to grab a drink made by one of the other 'tenders, evidently 'on the rocks' only to dump it and slam the glass upon the bar top, shoving a new bottle at the bartender, "Make it again."

"What the fuck?" What's wrong with on the rocks? As the patron who put that order in, an already inebriated Deckard sits back from his seat at the bar and looks seriously annoyed. Complete with leather jacket and scruff, he's not at his most diligent in terms of disguise, but it's a busy place and there are a lot of scruffy looking dudes around anyway. Just. Most of them aren't wanted for murder.

In Teo's hands, he is carrying empty coffee cups still nested inside their little heat-proof rings. Both are totally empty, of course, and both had been emptied into Abby some point over the course of transit. Only once they're indoors does he proceed to crumple them, one in each gloved hand, and crane his head in search of a trash can before he locates one.

Muttering apologies to some of the crowd in the brief but congested intervening distance, he manages to navigate his way over and get rid of the caffeine, navigate his way back just in time to mistake Vivienne's shouted query for a shout of something else, and looks over disconsolately from under the clinging drips and snowflakes of miserable weather in time to see Flint Deckard. Oh. "Get your coat," he offers Abby in a sidelong mutter, his hands out again.

That shout. That's new. New person. For a moment, Abby's wondering if she got fired from her job. She peels off her jacket for Teo, handing it over to him, followed by her scarf. The chain around her neck still holding the little gold cross, but also that small diamond ring. "Just a moment, I gotta save Deckard" She's still weary, but not as bad off as she was last time she was in for work. "Church tomorrow. Can't believe I overslept" and with that, the blonde slips behind the bar. Glass, ice, another bottle of whatever Deckard ordered and soon she's reaching past Viv to slide it in front of the evolved man. "He's my friend, back off. He gets what he wants, so long as he pays for it. Ice or not"

"Whoa, hold up Barbie, this isn't some watered down dive. You wanna serve it chilled, you chill the glass, 'Rocks' weaken the punch," Vivienne snaps back, her attentions narrowing upon the latecomer for a brief moment. "I don't give a flying fuck if he's Santa Claus himself, watered down drinks are 'bitch drinks' and unless you are suggesting he's your bitch, well he gets it straight up." Looking back to Deckard she twists her lips into a mocking smile, "Tell you what, if you want it 'on the rocks' from now on, you can have it 'on the rocks'. But, you need to climb your happy little ass on top of the bar and declare to the entire bar that /You/ are a bitch." Shooting a side glance back to Abby she continues, "There are no friends when it comes to business."

Whiskey. Always whiskey. Or beer. But in this case, yeah. Whiskey. Attitude visibly ameliorated at the appearance of Abigail and her determination to do things the way he SAYS, Deckard falls quiet. But then Abby's talking, and the bitchy chick is talking, and everybody is talking and Jesus Christ he just wants more booze, why is everything suddenly so complicated? "Tell you what. You climb your happy little ass over into my lap and we'll talk about who's the bitch, here."

In the meantime, Teo is carrying Abby's jacket and scarf (but not her purse), and trying not to pay too much attention to the dispute going on at the bar. He is going to carry Abby's jacket and scarf into the back.

“And I don't give a flying fuck who you think you are new bitch on the block. Take your alpha shit elsewhere. I don't have the patience tonight to make nice. Do what he said, get on his lap or take someone else’s order, and stop wasting time by throwing out booze that doesn't meet your personal standard, if he wants watered down, he'll get watered down, just so long as he gets his drink fast, the way he likes it, he pays for it and you get to the next guy drink. Understand new girl?" Abby has a bitch switch it seems, especially in light of everything. Her blue eyes have narrowed, watching Viv, daring the woman to get in her tired and weary ass.

Shooting a venomous glare back at the young blonde, Vivienne's eyes narrow before a genuine laugh erupts from her lips in amusement, "Well, if Barbie doesn't have herself a set of claws. Bravo, doll, bravo." Still highly amused, she turns to look over Deckard from head to toe — leaning over the bar playfully, "Baby, you couldn't handle my ass if you tried. You're cute, but I don't do charity. Drink up… and make sure to thank Barbie over there with a nice and hefty tip." Sliding back from the bar the bitchy bartender reaches to grab two more bottles with a flashy twirl as another order gets shouted her way.

Whoa. Cool. They're like…fighting. Sort of. Deckard reaches slowly for his drink while he watches, not going so far as to smirk until Vivienne has set her sights elsewhere. "She's hot. You should be nice to her. Maybe if you play your cards right you can have a sordid lesbian affair. Preferably somewhere I can watch."

Having located the coat-hooks on the wall just inside the hallway past the default Staff Only sign, Teo emerges in time to hear as much of these exchanges as he needs to in order to have a sense of what's going on. And he doesn't need much. A curse word from Abby, a laugh from Vivienne, Deckard unabashedly citing voyeurism as one of his interests. The Sicilian's expression goes decidedly wry as he shoulders his way in through the Sunday blizzard revelers. He pops head-first out of the crowd behind Deckard and thumps the older man on the shoulder hello, without managing to take his eyes off the women.

Thank god, because Abby probably didn't have it left in her to fire off what was likely going to send her over her quota of bad words for the year, at minimum. "Not Barbie, that's Jenny. I'm the nun Abigail" There, marked her territory. She'd been waiting for someone to challenge her, no one had so far. She narrows her eyes at Deckard though; then rolls them. "You’re my favorite Pervert. I should slap you, but I don't have the energy. I'm coming for your shirts tomorrow, before you disappear for Christmas. I'll be there at 2. Drink your drink. I potty-mouthed for you and you know how much I hate that" Abby looks around for Teo, wondering where the Italian went off before she digs under the counter into the cooler for a Red bull to pop the tab. "When'd Isabelle hire you and what do I call you?" She finishes off the can quickly before tossing it into a garbage can and taking someone's order. Question is obviously directed to Viv. Abby's slow at making drinks, but she's making them. Enter the Sicilian. "It's okay Teo. She bites, but I can take it. Don't worry" She looks to Viv. “My roommate, be nice to him as well"

The reply from the older man causes a brief look back towards Deckard, as Vivienne continues to put on a show of making the drink, "I don't do requests, Pops, though if you like a bit of girl on girl action - I hear there's a video store down in Chinatown that specializes in getting randy old goats off." Sliding her finished drink down to a waiting patron, she reaches to grab another glass while turning sideways to take in the young blonde, "So the Saint's taken on a nun… why am I not surprised." A momentary glance is granted over towards the 'stallion' as she cocks her head in an amused grin, "He fond of the bitch drinks too?" again looking back to Abby, "By the way, name's Vivienne and you might say that Izzy sorta worked me over until I caved. I take it you're the 'greenie'?"

"Who says I'm disappearing?" It's an innocent question, with a lift of his brows and everything. "You can put the slap on my tab," assured a moment later, Deckard glances down and aside after Teo's on his shoulder, then to the rest of Teo. "Heeey, Teo!" He is way too happy to see him to be sober. Way. The way he twists around to get a better look at him is accompanied by a slight sway on his stool, so it's probably a good thing that Teo is in a decent position to, you know. Keep him from falling on his face, not that he doesn't do that a lot on his own anyway. "I heard the craziest rumor today. You'll never guess. I was talking to our mutual friend — the one who like dustpans — and he said—" randy old goats. No, wait, that's what Vivienne just said. Jaw still open, he clamps it closed again and eyes her. Just, eyes her. Not a flattering look.

Despite that Teo hadn't exactly presented himself with the aggression of an attack dog, there's a perceptible shift in his carriage and expression when he is so to speak called off. Grins wider, shows more teeth, and remembers to offer a wave, something slightly rueful about the progress of his movements. "I drink whatever," he offers, helpful in his diplomacy, before his head swivels down to where Deckard is staring at him and whittering on about — Brian, he gathers.

Brian is almost as frequently the inadvertent rumor-monger as Abby is. Given Deckard currently has the attention span of a guppy swimming in vodka or any other dead fish, the Sicilian contents himself with making sure he avoids acquiring a concussion from either the ground or Vivienne's fist through whatever topic of conversation is most readily available. "You didn't get her that did you?" he asks, pointing at the glacier-sized stone hanging from Abby's neck.

Abby's hand comes up to the ring that dangles around the cross. "No he didn't. Yeah Viv, I'm the green, so green, my roots show. Still taking my course so that I can serve alcohol officially" One drink goes up, another order taken though she manages to slip in a coke and rum for Teo over to him. She makes sure money from her own pocket is put in the till for it. "She picked me up and gave me a job that I really needed. Doesn't complain when I call in sick"

Brown eyes watch the other woman's movements with a twist of her lips, "…or when you come in late, I guess?" Shooting another look towards the two men, Vivienne slides a bit to the side - using her hip to bump one of the other temp bartenders out of the way while reaching for another bottle, "Classes teach you the mix, but they can't teach the show. If you want some pointers, lemme know and we can practice after we close sometime. More flash and flair, the better the tips. Speaking of which, we really gotta do something about this music. Cover me while I see if I can find something with more of a beat."

"She's not interested. I think I already asked and she said no." Deckard can't actually remember clearly how that conversation went or if it was a real conversation. He indicates as much with a lazy lift of his glass towards the side of his head before lowering it for a long swallow. He watches Vivienne as he drinks, still giving her the 'I can see you naked,' look until she skirts off to see to the music, and he's left to glance back at Teo. "What was I saying again?"

Having received enough opposing and disparate answers to retain no idea of what's happening with the jewelry twinkling beside the golden crucifix, Teo settles for nodding his head. "E bello," he tells Abigail, offering her a thumbs-up and an entirely genuine smile that is no part merely placating in light of Vivienne's professional criticism and summary departure. He quirks his brow fractionally after the other woman's gone, though, and mutters something Italian about the girls back home once her heels have stabbed their way staccato out of earshot. "I don't know," he replies to Deckard. "You stopped halfway. Dustpans were involved."

"It is very beautiful and I have not a clue what to do with it" Viv walks off to deal with music and Abby slides into her place, taking orders and filling them with nowhere near the flare that Vivienne can muster. It's quick and to the point. Drinks, liquid poured in with no spillage. Each drop is money. Drink placed on the bar, money changes hands. "Brian will probably be around later, walk me home"

Ben makes his way in through the front door, holding it open for a couple on their way out before sidling in himself. He tugs off his gloves and unzips his jacket, shoving said gloves into his pockets and heading for the bar automatically.

The music cuts off followed by a clear case of feedback over the speakers as they crack and shriek in a god awful noise. A few more moments pass as heavy bass and rhythmic beats begin to pulse and pump through the stereo system. Vivienne returns, pulling one of the temporary girls off to the side as she sends the girl packing. Grabbing a bottle of Red, tossing and spinning it in the air before filling a shooter, the woman calls out to the newer patrons approach the bar, "What's your poison, and so help me God the next one to order a bitch drink is going to have to do a striptease on the bar."

"Dustpans," Deckard echoes distantly, one eye squinted while he grinds his molars through a piece of ice. A piece of non-bitchy ice. "Once Brian…oh. No, I remember now. He was saying how your boss," he reaches over his own shoulder with his free hand to poke Teo in his shoulder with paired fingers, just in case he's not sure whose boss he's talking about here, only to find that the younger dude is busy juggling his phone out of his pocket. One apologetic 'be right back' later, Deckard is resigned to looking back between Abigail and Vivienne. "Bet you can't make me."

"Mike, if you were to get on the bar top and striptease, we'd have an empty bar" Abby's trying desperately to keep up with the orders, find her groove, yet at the same time, not mess up. Enter Ben into the scene. "Ben!"

Ben raises a hand to wave and settles down on a stool not too far from Deckard. Say, two down. "Hey, Abigail. How's it going?" Vivienne is blinked at; he glances behind himself, just in case there's someone else who might order a girly drink, then back to her. "I just want a beer?" It comes out as a question. If he recognizes Deckard, he gives no indication.

"Beer it is…" Vivienne calls in turn as she leans to grab a bottle from the cooler, not even bothering to ask the kind and pops the top with a flip of her thumb. Slamming it on the bar for Ben, she grins playfully, "On the house for the first non-bitch in the past hour." Deckard's challenge doesn't go unanswered as she again eyes him up and down with speculation, "Oh, I could, Pops… but for the sake of my own eyes, I think I'll pass. Besides, we've already established your rating of a ten on the bitch-o-meter. No need to prove it."

Deckard looks a lot more like his mug shot than he did last time he saw Ben, which could account for some confusion in a man who has seen him accused of murder in responsible member of society mode. He glances over the man with dull but distant recollection, not quite putting the who with the where before Abby and Vivienne's commentary draws his attention inevitably back to the bar. "How is whiskey more bitchy than beer? You sure do talk the talk for a pair of bitches whose street cred so far consists solely of calling me a bitch."

Abby looks to Deckard. "You going to let that stand?" Tired she may be she's getting into a good mood as she makes the drinks that Vivienne isn't filling. "Tired, would rather be in bed, but I'm here. Same old same old. Have to make sure Viv doesn't take my spot as the Nun. How’s saving people going Ben?" There goes another whiskey, there's a vodka and orange juice. Her blonde ponytail swishes as she moves about filling orders. She's not as adventurous to any degree as Vivienne is atop the bar.

Ben blinks as the beer is set down. No charge? Seriously? Has he ever actually paid for a drink in this place? Ben shrugs lightly and curls a hand around the bottle, sliding it closer. "Billions upon billions are not dead, but I think most of them did it without my help. Hi, Viv. Thanks for the beer," a sidelong glance at Deckard, then back at Abby and Vivienne. "Do I even want to know?"

Niki enters the bar, dressed to work. She starts to head off behind the bar, to pick up a tray and start trying to get things together. She looks a little frazzled, and the shift hasn't even started yet.

"Whiskey on the rocks ain't whiskey, it's watered down piss. If it ain't straight, it's a bitch-drink," she grabs a towel to do a quick dust off the top of the bar before tossing it once more over her shoulder. Vivienne's attention is momentarily pulled to the EMT to acknowledge the gratitude with a playful grin, "No problem, babe…" Ducking over to collect a few more tips as she tucks them under the strap of her bra for safe keeping, Deckard is given a final regard, "Depends on how you judge the cred. Only ignorant assholes boast about their cred. When you got it, you don't flaunt it less you wanna spend twenty to life in some cell serving as a bitch to Bubba. Then again, you might like that sorta thing." Upon seeing Niki arrive and all dressed for the shift, Vivienne offers a playful grin upon her lips, "But it looks as if you're in for a reprieve… my shift's up."

"Abigail and this lunatic are trying to get me to dance naked on the bar," Deckard leans over to explain helpfully to Ben, brow hooded low and voice hushed, as if it's some kind of conspiracy. Then, less hushed and to Abby despite the fact that he's still ogling Vivienne, "What am I going to do? Set her on fire and shoot her entire family execution style? That is so unlike me."

Ben has a sip of beer, shaking his head a little. "I don't know if I agree with that. Beer is mostly water. American beer, anyway, even then, Whiskey'll get you drunker a lot faster." A sidelong glance at Deckard. "I support you not dancing naked on the bar. Thank you." He squints a little, because when Deckard starts talking about setting people on fire and things it twigs his memory just a little faint bit.

Deckard’s given a warning glance. Less talk in that nature. As such, she quickly fills a whiskey with ice, and slides it in front of him. "You’re speaking too much. You’re not drunk yet," Abby glances upwards to Viv who's getting down it seems. Soon. Thank god. Her cheeks are heated enough just from the fact that there's someone up there and she looks to Ben. "I don't want him up there. I think it'll just be fine enough if no other person gets up there except the ones who are supposed to be. Snow enough for you?" The little gold cross and diamond solitaire still dangle at her neck. "Niki. You made it. I think you’re behind here with me, not out there"

Niki picks up an order pad, and then looks over at Abby. "Oh. Behind the…already?" Okay, so it's a little stressful so far. But she quickly moves over to Abby's side to follow her lead.

Once Niki steps behind to fill her place, Vivienne tosses the towel back under the bar, "You gals think you can handle it all from here on out?" She makes a final sweep of the bar top, collecting her own tips before stuffing a portion into a jar near the register for dispersement among the others. Deckard's mention of fire and execution cause a visible smirk to register upon her features, "Empty promises… and hate to dash your dreams but someone already beat you to it." Pausing she crosses one final time to stand before Deckard, the bar top between the two, before fishing a twenty from her bra and slapping it on the counter in front of him "Do us all a favor and call your drunken ass a cab when you're ready to leave. Save a life or some bullshit like that." Turning to give Ben a nod, she looks back to Niki and Abby both, "Anyway, girls, I'm off. If you need me or there's any trouble I'll be upstairs at Izzy's. Just give a holler."

"Probably a worthy cause, considering the overwhelming support so far," Ben's squint gets a sidelong look in return, but it's bleary at best, and hey! Around the same time, he gets a fresh drink and twenty dollars slapped down onto the bar in front of him. Win win. Far from too prideful to take either, Deckard does at least finish off the drink he already had first. The new glass is deposited on a new napkin. The cash is tucked into his jacket, and he flashes out a quick, 'Call me,' gesture after Vivienne. Then he laughs. Because he is drunk.

"Snow's enough for me," Ben says, looking a little discombobulated. "Uh, bye, Viv. Thanks again for the beer." He offers a faint, friendly smile toward Niki. Hey, it's a new person! He promptly avoids eye contact with Deckard, because he is drunk. Deckard. Not Ben. Ben is not drunk. He's Ben.

“Best way to do something is to get tossed in head first. I'll share my cheat book with you. Take care, Viv. I'm sure we will!" She calls a shake of her blonde hair to the woman’s antics. Abby's far from impressed right now, still trying to figure out the other woman, her attention to the two men and Niki being split. "Watch the first few? Know any drinks already? Jack and Coke isn't hard, you fill it to about here with Jack" Abby points to the appropriate bottle. "And then top it off with coke. All done" her little notepad is brought out from a back pocket and flipped open. "We can do this. I'm sure. You can't be worse than me, seriously" There's other bartenders, two more at the other end, and Abby and Niki it seems are to handle this end. "If you mess up, you mess up, not the end of the world"

Niki nods, and swallows a bit. Clearly, she'd assumed she'd be working the floor. "Sure, I can wing it." She tries to put some confidence in her voice that she's really not feeling, and manages a smile back to Ben. "Anything I can get for you?"

Pausing one final time to make sure the music is still throbbing with the beat, Vivienne ducks on out from behind the bar and heads for the back — and consequently the apartment upstairs for the night.

December 21st: Red and Black
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