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Caritas, Saturday

Troubled, tragically-unmarried April was apparently a bartender, but only as a means of passing the time, since she had no husband and therefore no reason to ever cook or clean. She had enough family money to get by without a job, but she didn't feel right in her empty apartment all by her lonesome. So she needed a distraction, and Caritas was it.

Tonight, she was going to spend her shift mournfully looking through a magazine full of pictures of pearls she might never have a reason to wear. So sad.

[[up early, and there shall be looots of SP from me today, yus. HANUKKAH FESTIVITIES TONIGHT YAY.]]

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What was Jon doing in a place like this? On an island like this one?

Well, the shiny motorcycle that had been parked outside the bar probably attested to the fact that the bar was dealing with a bad boy, tonight. A bad boy with some pretty slick hair. And a somewhat inexplicable New Yorker accent.

But at least he had one hell of a singing voice.

"What's the house special tonight, gorgeous?"

"Whatever you like," April said generously, looking up from her magazine. "You're the first customer of the night."

"Slow night, then? Well, that's odd for a Saturday..." Jon glanced around the bar. Yep. Empty. "Must be my lucky night, then, getting to keep company with a lovely lady such as yourself."

That was a pretty winning smile there, as Jon pulled down his shades and gave her a shameless wink.

Golly, a smile! It sure wasn't often that April got smiles from nice men. Or flattery. This was a very novel experience!

"Oh, I'm sure a man like yourself has a woman back home," she countered, blushing slightly. "Maybe kids, even."

"Flatterer," Jon accused lightly, grinning a little more broadly. "Nah, I don't have a little lady to go home to, or kids, either. How about you? Is there a lucky boy out there for you?"

He could at least order something to drink before making a move on her, right?

Nah.

"No sir, there is not," came April's reply as her blush deepened. "Just a matter of time, I hope..."

Whoops, that came out suuuuper insecure. Oopsie.

"What can I get you?"

"Let's start with a smile," Jon replied, being the oh-so-smooth stud that he clearly was, here. "And then I'll have a Manhattan for myself, and whatever the lady pleases, on me."

Wooing her with mixed drinks! He was a scoundrel, but at least he was a scoundrel with nice hair and a wide-open wallet, right?

"You're very kind," April said, reaching for the bottles needed for his drink. As she got to work preparing it, she added, "Not often we get such friendly people in here. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The name's Jon," he introduced, leaning forward on his stool and resting his elbows on the counter. "So, what's a nice gal like you doing working in a hole like this, anyhow? I'd think the grubby jerks that come through a place like this would be too dirty and rude for the likes of you."

... Yes, himself included. Why?

"April," she replied. "A job's a job. Haven't got many options these days, a woman of my status in this society. Here, at least I've got tunes to listen to, and the hours aren't so bad."

Oh yeah. The zombie band played some rocking tunes.

"What do you do?"

"Music," Jon replied, just barely refraining from preening as he replied. "Me and my guitar, touring America on motorcycle. You dig rock and roll, doll?"

Literally, figuratively, pick whatever definition of rocking and rolling you want to, April.

April was going to pick the proper one, thank you. "Gosh, that's impressive," she swooned. "I sure do. I don't suppose you'd be willing to play something for me?"

"For you, anything you please." Jon gave a nod over to the stage. "So, do those deadbeats play decent backup?"

He was already contemplating what song to play. Earth Angel? Good Golly Miss Molly? Don't Be Cruel?

There were options, here.

"Don't know they've ever had someone with real talent to play with before," April admitted, propping up her chin on both her hands to watch him. "Promise not to mind if they screw the pooch while you're rocking."

"I think I can work with it," Jon decided. "I promise, then."

He gave her another winning smile, and then made his way up to the stage, having a quick (if one-sided) conversation with the zombie vocalist. After agreeing on a number to play, Jon gave the band the ol' one-two-three, and they launched into a totally impressive rendition of Blue Suede Shoes.

Jon's shoes were probably blue. In a very greyscale sort of way.

April applauded thoroughly when he was done, then gushed, "Wow," complete with a stream of giggling. "That was the bomb, Jon. Gosh."

Jon looked pretty darn pleased as he stepped down from the stage, giving the vocalist a (gentle, so as to not dislodge any limbs) clap on the shoulder, and then making his way back to the bar.

"Liked that, did you? I write my own, too, you know. Do you like sing, baby?"

Blushing at the endearment, April admitted, "Well, my voice isn't as good as all that, and I sure could never do something as brave as sing in public..."

"Oh, being brave has nothing to do with it," Jon replied, laughing. "It's all in your mind, you know? The audience is just whatever you're willing to let 'em be, no sweat."

If you thought you were dealing with a bad crowd, your show was going to reflect that. That was the business.

"I could give you lessons," he offered, a moment later. "You know... singing lessons. Build that confidence of yours. I'm sure you've got a voice like a songbird."

"I'd sure dig that," April said earnestly, batting her eyelashes up at him. "Right here?"

"Here, up on stage, back at my place. I got a little theater in town, good for putting on shows when I'm not on the road. You ever get to sing with a real spotlight on you before, doll?"

Jon was being absolutely shameless now, yes.

He really, really was. "I haven't," April replied, but she didn't seem horrified by the idea or anything. She glanced back at the empty bar behind her, then suggested, "I could leave a little early, if you'd like to go now."

Jon definitely seemed amenable to that idea, yes.

"They won't miss you here too much? I guess it is pretty quiet tonight..."

No, he was definitely not complaining about her suggestion in the least.

"I'll risk it," April decided. And with a flustered, breathless giggle, she hopped up over the bar (somewhat clumsily, because hi, she was wearing a dress and wasn't about to flash him), and slid across. "Let's go!"

"Excellent," Jon replied, shooting her one more grin as he led her toward the door. "We'll take my bike, then."

It was walking distance, easily.

But as if he was going to pass up the opportunity to get a pretty girl behind him on his Harley.

HAPPY HANUKKAH.

Thank you!

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Caritas, Saturday

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