Quark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wouldbenagus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2018-02-02 01:04 pm
wouldbenagus) wrote in fandomtownies2018-02-02 01:04 pm
Entry tags:
Quark's, Friday
Say what you would about this backwater little ancient Earth island, the latinum exchange rate was superb. Not as good as it would be if Quark had been the one to set it -- ah, the dream! -- but the metal was rare enough in this era that he could almost name his own price for it. Apparently the bank here did a modest amount of business with other advanced interstellar species for there to be a demand despite the fact that the local economy was still mostly gold-based. Gold and paper, anyway. Like little governmentally controlled IOUs, those little paper slips were. They weren't even shiny! But as ridiculous as they were, they could be exchanged locally for goods and services, and when it came right down to it, what was really important was that Quark collected as much of them as possible.
Which made pay day here just as agonizing as it ever was on the station.
"Five hundred seventy-eight, five hundred seventy-nine . . . five hundred eighty." Quark heaved a deep sigh as he handed his head dabo girl her final little green slip of paper. "And not a penny more. That's right, you can't fool me. I know what all those little fussy coins are worth now. Though why the nickel is worth less than the dime. . . . It's bigger! That means there's more of it!"
"We agreed on six hundred a week," the dabo girl said. She'd pocketed the other bills he'd given her, and held her hand out for more. "Before tips. You still owe me fifteen dollars."
"Six hundred?" Quark pressed a hand to his chest. "That doesn't sound like me at all. You're trying to pull one over on your old pal Quark, aren't you. I tell you, this is -- this is employer abuse, that's what this is. We can hardly keep the roof over our heads and the dabo tables spinning, but you're trying to milk me out of my very last . . . loonie!"
The dabo girl sighed and snapped her fingers. Quark glared at her. The dabo girl looked over her shoulder at the bouncer, who was built like a Klingon's larger, angrier ancestor. Quark groaned dramatically and pulled out his stack of bills again.
"You know, you should feel lucky to be making this much. Your government only requires I pay you $9.25 an hour. I checked. It's only out of the goodness of my heart --" The bouncer growled. "-- the goodness of my heart that I'm paying you this much." He heaved a sigh. "And that stupid, idiot, lobeless brother of mine, Grand Nagus Rom for ever convincing me to let my employees organize. Five hundred eighty-one, five hundred eighty-two. . . ."
Quark's was open.
Which made pay day here just as agonizing as it ever was on the station.
"Five hundred seventy-eight, five hundred seventy-nine . . . five hundred eighty." Quark heaved a deep sigh as he handed his head dabo girl her final little green slip of paper. "And not a penny more. That's right, you can't fool me. I know what all those little fussy coins are worth now. Though why the nickel is worth less than the dime. . . . It's bigger! That means there's more of it!"
"We agreed on six hundred a week," the dabo girl said. She'd pocketed the other bills he'd given her, and held her hand out for more. "Before tips. You still owe me fifteen dollars."
"Six hundred?" Quark pressed a hand to his chest. "That doesn't sound like me at all. You're trying to pull one over on your old pal Quark, aren't you. I tell you, this is -- this is employer abuse, that's what this is. We can hardly keep the roof over our heads and the dabo tables spinning, but you're trying to milk me out of my very last . . . loonie!"
The dabo girl sighed and snapped her fingers. Quark glared at her. The dabo girl looked over her shoulder at the bouncer, who was built like a Klingon's larger, angrier ancestor. Quark groaned dramatically and pulled out his stack of bills again.
"You know, you should feel lucky to be making this much. Your government only requires I pay you $9.25 an hour. I checked. It's only out of the goodness of my heart --" The bouncer growled. "-- the goodness of my heart that I'm paying you this much." He heaved a sigh. "And that stupid, idiot, lobeless brother of mine, Grand Nagus Rom for ever convincing me to let my employees organize. Five hundred eighty-one, five hundred eighty-two. . . ."
Quark's was open.
The bar
The games
The holosuites
OOC
Nine PM is an eternity away. Haaaalp.