fandomtownies | Luke's Diner, January 8 (Tuesday)

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$luke's,
yitzhak

Luke's Diner, January 8 (Tuesday)

Yitzhak set up the beglittered, bewigged Help Wanted sign in the front window before opening the diner today.

And then went into the kitchen with a frying pan in hand, to go after whichever one of his oh-so-witty staff had decided it would be funny to leave a giftwrap ribbon on the counter, attached to a tag with his name on it, trying to pass it off as a belated Christmas air guitar.

Oh yes. There would be mayhem for this. Or at least a lot of swearing in various guttural Eastern European languages.

Luke's is open. Don't mind the clamor in the back.

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Because it's best not to ask sometimes, really.

It was close and the food was ~~good~~ ~~edible~~ good, so Jack ducked in for lunch.

It's okay. The kitchen staff only gets this mean with him.

The sign got a slightly wary look... but Michael needed a job, and this place looked about his level, so he ventured into the diner anyway.

"Hi?"

Yitzhak popped out of the kitchen, his bandanna slightly askew. Luckily, he'd left the slightly bent (which it hadn't been five minutes ago) serving spoon in the sink.

He grunted and gave the boy a brief nod -- as close to a cordial greeting as most people ever got -- before glancing between the sign in the window and the menu board, and raising an eyebrow.

...mute, apparently. Okay, Michael could deal with that. Now to find out if he was deaf as well.

"Yeah, I was looking for a job?"

It might be more accurate to say that Yitzhak generally chose not to talk to people, but he never really saw the point in disabusing people of the muteness notion right away. It was fun to frustrate people ~~for which his player profusely apologizes~~.

If he were the type to perk up and adopt an eager expression, he would have done that now. Not being so inclined, though, he settled for the Yitzhak-equivalent: a facial expression that was much closer to an innocuous "O RLY" than his habitual "DO NOT WANT." Reaching beneath the counter, he pulled out a copy of the schedule, which had A.J.'s name penciled in for Sundays and Wednesdays, and a couple of other names scribbled out in the other columns. He tapped one of the empty columns and looked at Michael with a slight, questioning tilt of his head.

Michael glanced over the columns, dismissed Monday and Thursday - he had class - and tapped Tuesday and Saturday. "Those good for you?"

. . . ooo. There was that weekly drag show that met in a church basement in Alexandria on Tuesday nights. Yitzhak could totally go for that.

He flashed Michael a thumbs-up, partly to show off his manicure, and handed him an application form.

Oh yes, and a pen. A very glittery pen.

The pen got a dubious look, but he took it and started to fill in the form.

But it was a pretty pen! Purple and glittery! What's not to love?

While he was filling out the form, Yitzhak made Michael a milkshake.

Mostly because the shake machine drowned out the sound of the kitchen staff in back, having a fencing match with a spatula and tongs, but still . . .

Quite a lot, when your only role model in your earliest years was a violent drunken trailer-living redneck, but we'll gloss over that. Michael didn't like to talk about it.

He grinned at the appearance of the milkshake. "Hey, thanks."

Edited 2008-01-08 20:35 (UTC)

Trailer-living redneck? Welcome to double-take city -- that could've been Hedwig. Cringe.

Yitzhak gave him something that passed for a nod, in a single-downward-jerk-of-the-scruffily-bearded-chin way, and slid the milkshake over the counter.

...the image of Hank Guerin in women's clothes will now haunt this mun forever.

Michael accepted it with one hand, finishing off the form with the other, and took a drink.

~~. . . sorry!~~

Yitzhak took the form and filed it beneath the counter . . . or it looked like filing, anyway. Mostly it was a matter of moving the old phone books that had gotten stacked up on top of the folder where he kept the employee files, but for all intents and purposes he was down there filing.

Close enough. Michael hung around, drinking his milkshake.

"So... when d'you think you'll decide?"

Yitzhak hit his head en route to standing up again, so the first hint Michael would get of the fact that Yitzhak was not, in fact, mute would be the string of colorful Croatian cursing that happened directly post-impact.

Followed immediately by: "Can start this weekend?"

A fairly clear hint, at that! And what would have been impressive cursing, if he'd understood a word of it.

"Uh... sure! I'm not doing anything else."

Another nod, and Yitzhak actually extended one manicured hand for a welcome handshake. "Good. Free food, too."

Sometimes you had to be polite. There was no way around it.

Michael shook his hand willingly enough, pleased.

"Good bonus right there."

Yitzhak allowed himself 1.3 seconds of an actual smile. But didn't actually volunteer his name.

"...I'm Michael, by the way."

See, he had social graces! ...sometimes.

Hey, that was more than Yitzhak had. Grace, sure. He had grace in spades. But social graces, not so much.

"Yitzhak." This, with a far too graceful (see?) pat of his own chest, the gesture completely incongruous with the fact that he said his name like he was about to hawk and spit.

"Good to meet you", Michael said with a grin. "And thanks."

Yitzhak nodded again. The proper response here would, of course, be 'you're welcome,' but Yitzhak didn't usually hear 'thank you' to begin with so nodding was the more comfortable option.

Contrary to the rumors the kitchen staff kept trying to perpetuate, he was not actually a bobblehead doll.

I so didn't want to wake up this morning. I dreamed about spending two hours procrastinating on making my bed.

....have you ever dreamed you woke up and got ready for work ...and then woke up for REAL?

Invariably, that happens on my days off. SO MUCH RESENTMENT.

It's happened on my days off. It's happened when I've taken a nap during the day and think it's morning WHEN CLEARLY IT'S NOT AS THE DARK IS DARK AND MORNING IS LIGHT. Stupid not-functioning internal clock.

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Luke's Diner, January 8 (Tuesday)

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"Talk" To Yitzhak/Get a Job

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OOC

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