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Caritas- Tuesday

Kitty's good mood from the weekend had lasted all the way through to today. (Shut up.)

And then she came in to work and got her very first dose of Tino's saga with the barista. Besides hoping that wasn't what she looked like (it wasn't), this saga seemed to be an epic one, in the way that it didn't end and she couldn't escape having to hear about it short of leaving early or firing him or something.

Come in, people. For the love of god, give her something else to do.

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"Someone asked for it at my last job, I think just to see the look on my face," she replied, starting to get the drink together. "So, you know. At least a year. Totally worth it."

"I make it a point to exit on a high note." And a drunk note, most likely. "And you're helping me, so I'm giving a little back." Making her bartending shift that bit more amusing.

Hopefully.

"And I thank you for it," Kitty said, as she lit the drink and then blew it out because she liked when her customers didn't disfigure themselves. She set it in front of Angela and guessed, "Leaving this week?"

"Mm-hm," she intoned with a nod. "Classes start back up in a week, and I should probably figure some things out before that." Little things, like moving her stuff into her new room. You know.

"I think summer's are supposed to be longer than this." Feel longer than this, at the very least.

"I think it's the year-round school thing. Messes with your sense of time when you're hearing about classes starting in July," Kitty reasoned.

"You have far too much logic for someone around this much alcohol." Angela paused. "I mean, I know you're probably not supposed to drink it, but even so."

"Logic around alcohol is a good quality in a bartender, seeing as how they're the ones usually calling the cabs." Kitty paused. "Or rickshaws. To this day I find rickshaws weird."

"Aren't they adorable, though?" And weird. She wasn't denying that. "Cabs just aren't quite cutting it for me anymore. I go home, and the lack of rickshaws is just a little depressing."

"Seriously? Where's home?" That would probably explain a lot, Kitty thought.

"Technically DC," Angela answered, slouching forward on her elbows. "But all last year I was in Paris." Which was not depressing in the slightest. "... I didn't really think about the lack of rickshaws there until I came back." But she would now.

"And then they had to go and remind you? That's rude of them," she said sympathetically.

"It was my own fault for coming back." Angela shrugged a little 'what can I say'. "I must've missed getting turned into a pony and waking up tasting like fruit."

Kitty eyed her. "The pony thing I've done-" And save for the hooves thing it was kind of cool. "-but I haven't heard of tasting like fruit."

"... That was a while ago," Angela admitted. "I probably shouldn't bring it up in case it 'remembers' and decides to revisit. I think some people enjoyed it less."

The people who tasted of nastier things, mostly.

"It wasn't just fruit."

"It sounds like that would lead to a lot of crossing of personal boundaries."

Or maybe that was just her.

"Mm." Angela had some fond memories of that day. "I spent some time licking my roommate." Boundaries? What boundaries.

Yeah, this was going to go to an inappropriate thoughts place.

"I'm okay with this happening again," Kitty said. "Just saying."

So was Angela. Yep.

"Is there someone specific you're hoping for an excuse to lick?" She also had no boundaries in asking people she'd just met questions like that.

And apparently Kitty had been dying to talk about it a little. She really needed to get girlfriends here already. "I just started seeing this guy. It's not exactly at the, uh, licking stage yet."

How was it not Thursday yet. How?

It was a pity, really, that Angela was leaving at the end of this week. She made good girlfriend material.

"But getting there?" She leaned in on her elbows. "Who's the guy?"

Obviously Angela was just going to have to come back.

"Clint? He's one of the people running the gym," she answered.

"I have no idea who he is," Angela admitted. "But he runs a gym, so I'm going to go with a 'lucky you'."

"... Not some kind of heavyweight wrestler, is he?" Because there was toned, and there was too much and she was just checking.

"He's an archer."

Go ahead and imagine the arms, Angela. We'll wait.

Oh. Yeah, Angela appreciated that mental image. "Ooh. I'm holding with 'lucky you'," she decided.

"I have big appreciation for nice arms." It was possible she was enjoying getting to live vicariously through conversations like this. It was less complicated.

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Caritas- Tuesday

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