The Devil's Nest, Monday Night

[texted3times]

Tiny was still on his pumpkin spice bullshit and had now expanded into gingerbread spice bullshit.

"I'm not drinking either of those things," he said, pointing to the cocktails. "I would like vodka. Plain, normal vodka."

The Devil's Nest was open!

Comments

[ifwebeworthy]

Don paused at the bar to eye the gingerbread spice bullshit warily before telling Tiny, "We're gonna have to get a spray bottle for you."

Was this too much familiarity for a guy who seemingly rarely patronized this bar? Probably. But it was way too early for gingerbread spice bullshit, and Don had had a rough day, so he'd forgotten to observe some particulars. Sue him.

[texted3times]

"Hello," Eric said with a small smile.

[ifwebeworthy]

"Hi," Don said, smiling back before he remembered that he wasn't really supposed to know any of these people. "I mean, uh, good evening." Nailed it.

[texted3times]

Completely casual! Good job!

"I'm Eric," Eric said. "Do you always threaten your bartenders? It's not a dealbreaker if you say yes."

[ifwebeworthy]

"It's way too soon for gingerbread," Don defended himself. "It's not even Halloween, forget Thanksgiving." Unless you were in Canada, of course. "I'm Don. Donald. Blake." He managed not to mention the doctor part, which was rare for a surgeon.

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"Those are three different name options," Eric teased.

[ifwebeworthy]

"I guess you can pick which one you like," Don suggested.

Not all of us were born (well, created) before the existence of surnames, Eric.

[texted3times]

"I think I'll go with Don," Eric said. "Can Tiny get you a not-horrifying drink of some kind?"

[ifwebeworthy]

"Double of whiskey, please" Don, noted lightweight, requested. It had been a really bad day. "Not pumpkin spice whiskey. I don't know if that even exists, but I don't want to find out."

[texted3times]

"I'd say it's proof that a god doesn't exist, but I have two tending bar, so that's not it," Eric said. "Maybe it's proof that humans should be stopped?"

[ifwebeworthy]

"In my experience, the gods don't come with torments anywhere half that creative," Don said. "Humans, on the other hand..."

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"Endlessly creative," Eric finished, nodding. "Just look at the variety of Oreos no one asked for."

[ifwebeworthy]

"Oh, I try not to," Don said. "When I died we just had Oreos. And Double Stuf Oreos, of course. Now it's too much."

[texted3times]

"I don't really eat food," Eric said, "but half an aisle devoted to one sort of cookie feels excessive."

[ifwebeworthy]

"As a medical professional, I'd have to agree with you even if it didn't weird me out personally." He had to admit, though, "The lemon ones are good."

[texted3times]

Eric chuckled. "Really?"

Tiny delivered Don's drink.