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Caritas | Saturday Evening

Wallace wasn't paying too much attention to much during his shift at Caritas even if he was around. He was busy on his phone trying to book a portal to Canada. Figures the portals would get screwy when he was trying to leave this town for good.

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I need a new computer chair

With her stuff mostly unpacked (save for a couple boxes she was sure would manage to stay packed till the day she moved out), Kitty was headed out tonight. And call it habit from a lot of nights spent at one already, but it didn't shock her at all that she ended up at the bar.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "Can I get a Coke?" She assumed that they'd check ID's, and she doubted anyone would believe she was 21.

"Well that's boring," Wallace said, looking up from his phone. "But sure."

"If you want to give me something less boring, I'm not gonna argue..." she tried.

"If you're paying you can have whatever you want," Wallace told her, realizing he hadn't seen her around before. "Age doesn't matter here. We're owned by a nineteen year old."

"Seriously? Then make that a beer," she said, because she was eighteen and had just been a college student and there were certain things you got used to. "I don't think I've ever seen a place that didn't card before."

"Well you've managed to find yourself in an interesting little town." That Wallace was currently trying to leave. "You're getting Miller Lite."

Because that was the tap closest to him.

"I'll live with that," she decided. "So... you wouldn't happen to have any openings here then, would you?" She'd counted bartending out when she'd looked up the legal age for that in Maryland, but if this was true...

"We have openings out the ass. Not literally," Wallace told her as he sat down her beer. "Tuesday, Saturday, Sunday and the manager's position has recently become open."

He hadn't even told Chuck about it, that's how recent it was.

"Manager," Kitty repeated. She could practically hear Dylan telling her to go for it, eighteen or not. "I do have experience..."

Behind the bar, but shh.

"Oh trust me, you don't need experience to manage this place," Wallace said. "You just have to be okay with bossing around the deformed looking guy cleaning the bar down there."

Tino lifted his head up and glared at being referred to as deformed.

Kitty even gave Tino a sympathetic little look there. She thought he was fine. She also hadn't seen him in any state of undress. Yet.

"And what about the... band there?" she asked, since that hadn't escaped her notice.

"Oh those guys? You're supposed to give them raw meat and tape them up when parts fall off or whatever," Wallace said, waving his hand dismissively. "I just make deformed guy do it or one of the lesser employees take care of it on their days. Managers are above such things."

Also it was gross.

"Slightly different than my last job," Kitty said slowly, "but I think I can do it." Though she'd probably do it herself because she was so that person.

"Then the job's yours. I'm trying to ditch this town ASAP," Wallace shared. "Though I guess I should probably learn your name to let the actual owner know who is running his bar."

"Kitty Pryde," she said with a smile. "Uh, can I ask why you're ditching it?" It was probably best to ask that kind of question while she was this new.

"I miss the Great White North," Wallace told her. "I know, I know, you'd think from the Hollywood scene we Canadians are all dying to get out of there, but that's just a rumor perpetuated by Ryan Reynolds."

"He's good at passing that rumor around," Kitty said. Ryan Reynolds was cute. She'd buy it. "When are you leaving, he whose name I haven't gotten?"

"Wallace. And probably early this week." He thought he'd be able to escape the portal crapping out on him before then. "I'll just leave my boss an email saying I hired a new manager. If he comes in here you'll know it. He looks like me only he dresses like he's in The Great Gatsby."

"That sounds... interesting." And she had to ask, "Is he a clone or something?"

They had those where she came from.

"God, no, we just look alike," he said. "You get that a lot here."

Weirdly, she didn't think he was kidding or hazing her or anything. This almost seemed normal. "And they're not clones, either?"

"Oh sweetie, I have no idea," Wallace said with a shrug. "You're gonna get all types. This is the one place where you should believe everything everybody tells you."

"Why does that sound... foreboding, yet not?" she asked.

"You'll be fine," Wallace assured her. "If Tino's face or the zombies haven't phased you, you'll be okay."

"Oh, so those are exactly what they look like," Kitty said, looking back towards the band again. "I would take a job where I might have to feed zombies."

"Just be thankful you don't have to kill the homeless in order to feed them," Wallace said. "Raw beef or pork will do fine."

"Which is good. Because if I had to kill anyone for this, I'd already be halfway across the country by now," she assured him, drinking her beer. Because she maybe needed it now.

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Caritas | Saturday Evening

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Back Room

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