[Scene] Desiree and Jake take out the trash
Dessie: *Busy night at the Rusty Gust! Desiree has hardly gotten a chance to bus her tables all night and has resorted instead to charming the high-school dishwasher into helping her out on most of them. Naturally he's only too happy to, but she'd almost become overwhelmed by the packed tables before the dinner rush left and people started filing out. Luckily, the rest of the patrons mostly want drinks, which are so much easier to keep track of and a whole lot less time consuming to try to carry*
Dessie: *she stops by one of her tables on her way to get another volley of drink orders in and smiles blindingly* Hey there pardner, can I get you something else to drink? *her western accent is nearly nonexistent but she likes to do what she can to keep up appearances*
Patron: *the patron in question is surly and sweat-stained, the kind of person who is obviously not in a bar he's familiar or comfortable with. He grunts at Desiree before turning back to his beer* Gimme another mug, and try to move that ass.
Dessie: *laughs, not paying attention to his attitude* Coming right up! You're drinking Sam Adams, right?
Patron: Sam Pisswater is more like it. Yeah, hurry up.
Dessie: I'll get that for you right away, hombre! *she darts off and gives the drink orders to Kate, smiling blithely all the way. If she's uncomfortable with the patron's attitude, it doesn't show, and in fact when she returns with his new mug she seems calmly pleased* I asked the bartender to keep this one low on foam for ya, hope that helps!
Patron: *his own mug is more or less empty now, and he eyes the new one with something approaching approval, then looks up at Desiree with a wry, unshaven grin* Well I guess it does, sweetcheeks.
Dessie: *leans up against the nearby booth divider in a casual sort of way, getting a little rest for her feet* Just doing my job! You thinking about anything else? Home fries would be mighty tasty, I reckon...!
Patron: *picks up his beer and takes an appreciative swallow, swishing it around in his mouth* Sounds good to me. Maybe while you're going I can think of another couple of things that'd taste right.
Dessie: *stands up, putting a hand on her hip* Well sure! If you think of anything just flag me right on over~ I'll get the order on those fries in for now. *jots it down, then takes off and visits her other tables one by one*
Patron: *watches her as she goes, nursing his beer and licking his lips - not just for the foam that's collected at the tips of the hairs on his mustache, either* Yeah, I think you need someone to teach you how to ride, cowgirl.
Dessie: *after distributing drinks and smiles at her other tables, she comes back with a steaming basket of fries* Here's your order! Did you see anything you liked while I was off getting it?
Patron: Yeah, sugar, I sure did. *gestures toward the bar with a jerk of his head* Hey, what's that over there?
Dessie: *glances over* Huh?
Patron: *he gestures at the bar with his hand, and it's barely noticeable to an observer when the back of his knuckles brushes the skirt of Desiree's uniform and lifts it up, just for a second, so he gets a good eyeful of her red underwear* I'll take a couple of servings of ham.
Dessie: *she stands stock straight and turns around, pressing her hand to her chest with a stunned expression* S-scuse me pardner...! *she recovers herself and smiles, though it's not quite as radiant as usual* Uh... How about keeping your hands to yourself, huh? This... establishment is respectable! *she's struggling to keep up the western banter, she glances back to Kate at the bar for a moment, then back to the patron* Now, did you have an order for me?
Patron: Yeah. Couple of servings of ham. *takes another sip of his beer, licking the foam from his mustache and winking at her* Then take your break in about twenty minutes and meet me outside. I'll introduce you to the lady tickler.
Patron: *twitches his mustache*
Dessie: *her smile becomes a teeth-gritted rictus* We don't have ham here, sorry! And well, *she lifts her left hand and shows off her ring finger* I'm happily married. *she softens at that* So will that be all, then?
Patron: *he looks at the ring a moment, then grins anyway* Yeah. Bring me a steak. Leave it cool, too. I like finding that sweet pink. *winks again* Offer still stands, too.
Dessie: *walks without really hurrying into the bar, giving Kate a reassuring wave and then ducking her head into the kitchen* Steak, on the hoof. *she looks around the steamy busy kitchen* Jakey-boy, you in here?
Jake: *standing next to one of the cooks, he tastes some sauce off a silver spoon with a contemplative look* Hm. Still a touch too easy to tell it's A1. Better toss in some more anchovies. *looks to Desirée when she gets his attention* Yeah, bella?
Dessie: *cocks her hips, rolling her lips together thoughtfully. For once, she's not smiling* Oh, just one of my customers... *she tilts her head* He's making me kind of... all-overy?
Jake: *tosses the spoon into the dishwasher's bin as he walks up to her* Need me to pull back his reigns a lil'?
Dessie: Yes! He's got a foul mouth and he flipped up my skirt. He didn't take no for an answer either. *she smiles again* I'll tag along if you don't mind! No sense in wimping out, right?
Jake: *nods once, meaning business* Show me to the cross-grained critter.
Dessie: *leads him out the doors of the kitchen and towards the table, slamming her palm down on the table to get the customer’s attention* Hey there! I got someone I'd like you to meet! He owns this place.
Patron: *looks up with a start* What in the He-.... *stares up at Jake*
Jake: *steps up to the patron with an intimidating look -- but he's caught in the other man's stare before he can say anything* ...?
Dessie: *looks at Jake and then at the customer* Um...? Jakey-boy?
Patron: ...Jacob? Jacob Marshall?
Jake: ...Mr. Paul Glazer. *blankly*
Dessie: *lifts her hand to her mouth* You two... know each other?
Patron: *stands up, pushing back his chair as he does so, his beer and fries forgotten* Jacob, it's been twenty years. Where have you been?
Jake: *with a challenging tone -- doesn't budge* What're you gettin' on my case for, pardner? Ain't no law that says a man's gotta leave a trail wherever he goes.
Patron: ...Why are you talking like that?
Jake: *barely suppressing a flinch* Like what?
Dessie: *steps back, not really willing to get in between the two of them now that the conversation has advanced beyond her understanding. She stays close by, just watching*
Patron: *stares blankly for a second and then guffaws with laughter, sitting back down in the chair* Same as you ever were! Hoo - is that what it was? Did you run away after your old man dragged you to the Apache Music Festival one too many times?
Jake: *stands rigid, looking down at the other man awkwardly; his tone is quicker and more quiet than usual* Neil and I found a new place to settle in once I graduated. That's all.
Patron: Still like playing cowboy too, huh? I wonder how the old man w-no, wait, I got it. *dips his finger into his beer, assumes a very grave expression, and dabs at his eye - when he takes his finger away, a single "teardrop" of beer is running down his face. He is trying hard not to laugh*
Jake: *lowering his head to glare* Pa ain't up for discussion. Now, see here? *glances toward Desirée* This saloon's my pride, and so're my employees. You'd best keep your paws to yourself.
Patron: *he can't hold it in anymore, and brays laughter again, holding his sides and shaking his finger at Jake* Oh Lord, boy, you're too much! You try telling me you don't want to bite off a piece of that cake and you are a damned fool liar!
Jake: Don't accuse a man of laying a finger on his shoot. *pointing two digits to the man* You'll bite the bullet...if this were Texas.
Patron: *somehow laughs even harder, then chokes it back* Texas? Texas? *wipes a genuine tear away* Hey, sweetcheeks, take a guess at how many times Jacob here's been to Texas.
Dessie: *looks at Jake for a sec, but doesn't seem willing to answer* Uh...
Jake: *not looking at Desirée* Doesn't matter. The point still stands.
Patron: *still chuckling, takes a sip from his beer, and then stands up in front of Jake - he is a very big man* Wanna know something, hombre?
Jake: *cooly* Yeah?
Patron: *puts two of his meaty fingers against Jake's chest and pokes him hard* Way I figure, you still look like the same little piss-ant who just wanted to be John Wayne or Clint Eastwood or whoever. *each of the next words are punctuated with a poke* And if I want to have a little fun with one of your hired hands, it's my business.
Jake: *those words combined with the obnoxious pokes causes something to snap in him -- his raises his hand to grab the man's fingers* Now listen here--
Dessie: *but then from behind him, a fist, then an arm, then a shoulder and the rest of her appears in seemingly slow-motion. She follows through as though she's hit someone or something before in her lifetime* That's enough! *her voice sounds as cheery as ever as she slugs the strange large man as hard as she can in the face*
Patron: *staggers - looks at Jake, then at Desiree - then falls and hits the floor with a crash*
Jake: *after a moment of silence, steps over to the side of the unconscious body and examines. He whistles low* You sure hobble a mean lip, bella.
Dessie: *rubs her hand, looking up at him* Huh? Oh! Well, I sure couldn't let you get in a fight on my account, Jakey boy! That's Ronnie's job. *beams*
Patron: *gurgle and drool*
Jake: *nudges up on his hat rim with a thumb* Let that be a lesson to him and all the other curly wolves in the house. *grins* Need a break after all this excitement?
Dessie: Sure! If you're gonna let me! What do we do about all this? *gestures to the man on the ground and the agitated crowd of bargoing onlookers*
Jake: Take out the trash and I'll give you fifteen. *steps over the man on the floor and heads back to the bar counter* Grab yourself a can of juice. It's on me.
Dessie: But Corey just took out the- *looks down* Oh. Well, all right then. *claps her hands together and flexes her right hand, then leans over and grabs the unconscious man’s arm*
Dessie: *heaves up, trying to drag him towards the door, but he budges only a handful of inches*
Dessie: *Frowns and tries again, with the same result*
Dessie: *tilts her head thoughtfully and then looks around to the nearest booth. She leans over the table, pressing her arms together as she does so* I don't suppose I could ask you boys to help me out, could I? *They are only too happy to oblige*