Fic : Eat Me 2/? (Pinto, NC17)
Title : Eat Me
Fandom : Pinto
Rating : This part G, overall NC17
Word count : 2085
Summary : Zach owns a smoothie bar in Silverlake, but a new arrival in town might trouble his business, and his pants.
Part one
It was weird to be proud of a counter top, Chris knew this. He was still fucking proud of this counter top. The first time he’d stepped into Urban Burger in Christchurch, the counter top had been a little like this - grey polished granite with flecks of silver, except Chris had asked for pink and blue flecks. Pink and blue were his colours, the same as Gracie’s Diner, his grandmother’s place out in San Luis Obispo and the direct inspiration for his baby. His formative memories were dominated by images of him sitting on a stool at the counter, his little legs dangling as he sucked on the straw of a milkshake bigger than his head, his grandma looking on in her blue and white uniform and her thick glasses, her hair like a yellow cloud and so set with hairspray that her little white hat didn’t even shift when she dipped her head to fetch him a napkin.
Grandma had always said that when she was growing up, the diner was king. Her father, Chris’s great grandfather, had bought and set up Gracie’s in 1929 and named it for his infant daughter. It had been more than just a place to eat, Gracie’s was a community hub. There were workers from the quarries, then as their trade started to wind down a steady flow of custom came from Route 101 and State Route 1. Even the fast food rush which killed off many of the roadside diners didn’t threaten Gracie’s. Grandma, and after her Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Carol, clung on until the bitter end. In 1996 they built a retail park, and the great grandchildren of Gracie’s original clientele parked their SUVs on the former site, then went off to watch a movie and eat at Johnny Rocket’s, smirking at the retro paper hats the servers wore.
The place looked just like Gracie’s. Chris had bothered the SLO historical society and managed to get a dozen original photos of the diner, his own photographs only showed the back wall and the counter, not the row of booths behind wooden partitions or the open kitchen where Al would field incomprehensible diner slang from the waitresses. “86 the hot top, we’re out. Flop two and give it wings.”
Of course, things had moved on. Grandma had passed away. When she knew she was on the way out she promised him $20,000 and told him to go travel, which he did. “Don’t open no diner Kit, I heard you talking to your dad but don’t open no diner with that money. You’re a college man Kit, I don’t want you worrying about beef, you hear me?” He had compromised. He did travel, but he took with him grandma’s old order book, and in it he made notes whenever he could. He’d eaten burgers from Texas to Tahiti, eaten shrimp in Thailand and a heavenly lamb patty in Urban Burger, where he had met Karl.
Karl had no fucking clue about diners. He knew everything there was to know about the history of McDonalds and Burger King and now, Chris did too. “Know your enemy Pine, they didn’t close down your gran’s place but they’re everywhere, they’re like a virus. You think one measly little retail park would have killed McDonald’s? It’d be like taking an aspirin for a brain tumour. Expansion is the key. I’ll go in with you, I’ve been looking to get into America.”
Just that statement told you everything you needed to know about Karl. He had one burger joint, which sure, was doing very well. But he wanted to get into America. Partners, with a travelling kid he just met. If it wasn’t for Karl, Chris might never have gotten here, he might have come back from New Zealand and forgotten all about the pipe dream. The trip had cost $4,000, and the remainder of grandma’s money was barely enough to open up a hotdog stand in LA. Karl’s cash injection was the push off the cliff Chris needed, and he was determined that this place would be a success. He grabbed his keys and undid the plastic on his new menus. On the back was the picture of him and Gracie at the diner, circa 1984. A little biographical note to tell the customers that they were getting a slice of true American history, albeit buffed up and a little cleaner. He smiled to himself and looked at his watch. The world’s most badly run smoothie store would be open and he wanted to do a little more digging about the clientele. It didn’t hurt that the proprietor was hot as balls.
---------
Zach had a line. Zach hadn’t had a line since Eliza suggested they branch out into brownie baking and had turned out a batch of something suspiciously moreish which Zach forbade from then on lest he be carted off to Gitmo. The bell tinkled and he gave a cursory wave to Chris as he actually had to use one of the cup holders with four spaces.
By the time he had made his way through the customers, Chris had taken a seat and was pondering his crossword. He looked very Californian in his white tshirt, shades pushed up on his head as he chewed his pen.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not the latin name, it’s a standard name. It was just misleading because it’s A blank A.” Zach sat down with Chris without asking and tapped the crossword.
Chris paused, then nodded. “Adam’s Needle?” Filling it in his eyes met Zach’s and they smiled at each other. “Thanks. You seem to have had what the rest of the retail world identifies as a rush, what happened?”
Zach blushed. “I opened at 8.30 this morning, just as an experiment. You were right, pre-work crowd. I already broke even for the day.”
Chris grinned. “So I guess my smoothie is on the house then? What do you recommend?”
“Well, what mood are you in? How do you feel?” Zach stood and moved to the counter, getting out a fresh cup.
“I feel full of plans and challenges, I feel energised by possibility.”
“But?”
Chris faltered and Zach knew he’d hit on something. He was a little cocky but there was an uncertainty there today which Chris hadn’t shown yesterday. Anyone would think he was nervous.
“Well...I guess I’m a little apprehensive as to whether my business will be a success. I’ve never seen this type of thing run in LA, I’m a San Louis boy.”
Zach nodded. “I have just the thing. You ever hear of haskap?”
“Nope.”
“It’s also called honeyberry, it’s very very hardy, you can grow this in -47 degree weather. I’m going to mix it with some good old Californian boysenberries, and this mixture will give you a symbolic boost because it’s both local and foreign, it’s a native and it’s tough as hell and it tastes amazing.”
The deep purple mix he gave to Chris made the man’s smile double in size. “Wow! That is so beautiful, you’re very talented.”
Zach shrugged, secretly pleased. “I live to serve. So you opening up any time soon?”
Chris ran a purple stained tongue over his lips and Zach’s jeans tightened. “I plan to open in two weeks,can’t see any obstacles to that date. I’m going to start advertising next week, where do you advertise?”
“Uhm, well we had some flyers at the yoga centre once I think. And there was this local tradesmen’s paper thing last summer, we had an ad in that.”
“Oh sure, so you mostly do word of mouth? Website, facebook, twitter and stuff?”
Zach felt out of his depth again, how did this guy do it? “We don’t have any of that right now. Is that what you’re going to do?”
“Of course, it’s very low cost and it’s measurable, you can engage with your customers and start loyalty based initiatives like secret phrases for 50 cents off, tasting sessions, bonus cards, you know?”
“Isn’t that more for big chains? I mean, I don’t know whether that would work with our customers, they’re kind of set in their ways.”
“Yeah, like this morning proved that. They were all established customers, right?” Chris’s eyes sparkled and Zach nudged his leg with his foot playfully.
“Ok fine, maybe you’re right. I dunno, I don’t think about things like that, I’m not so much of a business man, I just like having the freedom to do what I want.”
“You want your business to work though, surely? That’s the ultimate compliment to your customers - if you don’t care about your business you can’t care about them.” Chris was leaning on his elbows, gesturing wildly.
“I care! I do! I just....I don’t know about all that corporate stuff.” Zach felt cowed, his earlier good mood starting to dissipate.
Unexpectedly, Chris reached out and took his hand. “I can see that you care, because you know your product and you weren’t too proud to take some advice. I think you can make things easier on yourself, make your customers feel really wanted, then that freedom you’re after will be easier to get because once the cash comes rolling in you could hire a manager maybe. Then you can be as free as you want!”
Zach heard only every other word as Chris’s hand warmed him. When the silence got weird Chris let go and blushed and they both giggled shyly. “Sorry, I bet you think I’m a real asshole, coming in here telling you what to do....”
“Not at all, it’s really nice to meet someone who does the same job as me, most of my friends, they have no real responsibilities, they expect me to close the store when I go on vacation. And usually, I’ll be honest, I do.”
“And let me guess, you spend your vacation worrying about the rent you have to pay when you come back, and whether your customers will find some place new that’s open every day from 8 til 6 without fail and which has a logo and a corporate office?”
“Pretty much exactly that. The week after I come back from vacation is always slow, people think we’ve closed down. That makes me think I never should have gone away, then I get stressed, then my friends tell me I’m a corporate shill and I need to spend six months living in a slum in Nigeria to get perspective on my first world problems.”
The bell tinkled and Eliza walked in, fiddling with her iPod and not even bothering to apologise. She went into the back and Chris smirked, tapping his watch. “Well, your 9.30 rush seems imminent so I’ll get out of your way. You busy tonight?”
Zach hesitated. “You think I should open late?”
Laughing, Chris picked up his paper. “No,I think you should have dinner with me. We can start a local business people’s dinner club and bitch about customers and being a corporate shill.”
“Okay, sure...”
“Great, meet me out front at 7.30 okay? I know a great place, you’ll love it.”
Zach watched him go, slightly befuddled. Was this a date? He picked up Chris’s empty paper cup and studied it in case Eliza had been mixing ingredients again.
“Was that that guy? He’s really hot, you should tap that.” Eliza helped herself to some cherries as she stared out of the window. “You know what’s weird though? His store is getting a neon sign, I saw them bring it when I was walking Kerouac last night. What kind of furniture store has a neon sign? He’s not opening at night,right? What is it like furniture for vampires? Oh my God! We should totally do a vampire smoothie, like with blood orange and stuff, it would be so awesome. Can we order some blood oranges?”
“What? Yeah, sure.” Zach let Eliza's stream of consciousness wash over him as he thought about what to wear for his date. “We already broke even today by the way, I opened at 8.30 and we got a rush.”
“Seriously? Do I have to start coming in at 8.30? Because that is going to throw my schedule a little.”
Zach smiled. If he got alone time with Chris she could come in at lunch time for all he cared. “No, it’s fine, come in when you usually do. And order those blood oranges, let’s go nuts!”
On to part 3
Fandom : Pinto
Rating : This part G, overall NC17
Word count : 2085
Summary : Zach owns a smoothie bar in Silverlake, but a new arrival in town might trouble his business, and his pants.
Part one
It was weird to be proud of a counter top, Chris knew this. He was still fucking proud of this counter top. The first time he’d stepped into Urban Burger in Christchurch, the counter top had been a little like this - grey polished granite with flecks of silver, except Chris had asked for pink and blue flecks. Pink and blue were his colours, the same as Gracie’s Diner, his grandmother’s place out in San Luis Obispo and the direct inspiration for his baby. His formative memories were dominated by images of him sitting on a stool at the counter, his little legs dangling as he sucked on the straw of a milkshake bigger than his head, his grandma looking on in her blue and white uniform and her thick glasses, her hair like a yellow cloud and so set with hairspray that her little white hat didn’t even shift when she dipped her head to fetch him a napkin.
Grandma had always said that when she was growing up, the diner was king. Her father, Chris’s great grandfather, had bought and set up Gracie’s in 1929 and named it for his infant daughter. It had been more than just a place to eat, Gracie’s was a community hub. There were workers from the quarries, then as their trade started to wind down a steady flow of custom came from Route 101 and State Route 1. Even the fast food rush which killed off many of the roadside diners didn’t threaten Gracie’s. Grandma, and after her Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Carol, clung on until the bitter end. In 1996 they built a retail park, and the great grandchildren of Gracie’s original clientele parked their SUVs on the former site, then went off to watch a movie and eat at Johnny Rocket’s, smirking at the retro paper hats the servers wore.
The place looked just like Gracie’s. Chris had bothered the SLO historical society and managed to get a dozen original photos of the diner, his own photographs only showed the back wall and the counter, not the row of booths behind wooden partitions or the open kitchen where Al would field incomprehensible diner slang from the waitresses. “86 the hot top, we’re out. Flop two and give it wings.”
Of course, things had moved on. Grandma had passed away. When she knew she was on the way out she promised him $20,000 and told him to go travel, which he did. “Don’t open no diner Kit, I heard you talking to your dad but don’t open no diner with that money. You’re a college man Kit, I don’t want you worrying about beef, you hear me?” He had compromised. He did travel, but he took with him grandma’s old order book, and in it he made notes whenever he could. He’d eaten burgers from Texas to Tahiti, eaten shrimp in Thailand and a heavenly lamb patty in Urban Burger, where he had met Karl.
Karl had no fucking clue about diners. He knew everything there was to know about the history of McDonalds and Burger King and now, Chris did too. “Know your enemy Pine, they didn’t close down your gran’s place but they’re everywhere, they’re like a virus. You think one measly little retail park would have killed McDonald’s? It’d be like taking an aspirin for a brain tumour. Expansion is the key. I’ll go in with you, I’ve been looking to get into America.”
Just that statement told you everything you needed to know about Karl. He had one burger joint, which sure, was doing very well. But he wanted to get into America. Partners, with a travelling kid he just met. If it wasn’t for Karl, Chris might never have gotten here, he might have come back from New Zealand and forgotten all about the pipe dream. The trip had cost $4,000, and the remainder of grandma’s money was barely enough to open up a hotdog stand in LA. Karl’s cash injection was the push off the cliff Chris needed, and he was determined that this place would be a success. He grabbed his keys and undid the plastic on his new menus. On the back was the picture of him and Gracie at the diner, circa 1984. A little biographical note to tell the customers that they were getting a slice of true American history, albeit buffed up and a little cleaner. He smiled to himself and looked at his watch. The world’s most badly run smoothie store would be open and he wanted to do a little more digging about the clientele. It didn’t hurt that the proprietor was hot as balls.
---------
Zach had a line. Zach hadn’t had a line since Eliza suggested they branch out into brownie baking and had turned out a batch of something suspiciously moreish which Zach forbade from then on lest he be carted off to Gitmo. The bell tinkled and he gave a cursory wave to Chris as he actually had to use one of the cup holders with four spaces.
By the time he had made his way through the customers, Chris had taken a seat and was pondering his crossword. He looked very Californian in his white tshirt, shades pushed up on his head as he chewed his pen.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not the latin name, it’s a standard name. It was just misleading because it’s A blank A.” Zach sat down with Chris without asking and tapped the crossword.
Chris paused, then nodded. “Adam’s Needle?” Filling it in his eyes met Zach’s and they smiled at each other. “Thanks. You seem to have had what the rest of the retail world identifies as a rush, what happened?”
Zach blushed. “I opened at 8.30 this morning, just as an experiment. You were right, pre-work crowd. I already broke even for the day.”
Chris grinned. “So I guess my smoothie is on the house then? What do you recommend?”
“Well, what mood are you in? How do you feel?” Zach stood and moved to the counter, getting out a fresh cup.
“I feel full of plans and challenges, I feel energised by possibility.”
“But?”
Chris faltered and Zach knew he’d hit on something. He was a little cocky but there was an uncertainty there today which Chris hadn’t shown yesterday. Anyone would think he was nervous.
“Well...I guess I’m a little apprehensive as to whether my business will be a success. I’ve never seen this type of thing run in LA, I’m a San Louis boy.”
Zach nodded. “I have just the thing. You ever hear of haskap?”
“Nope.”
“It’s also called honeyberry, it’s very very hardy, you can grow this in -47 degree weather. I’m going to mix it with some good old Californian boysenberries, and this mixture will give you a symbolic boost because it’s both local and foreign, it’s a native and it’s tough as hell and it tastes amazing.”
The deep purple mix he gave to Chris made the man’s smile double in size. “Wow! That is so beautiful, you’re very talented.”
Zach shrugged, secretly pleased. “I live to serve. So you opening up any time soon?”
Chris ran a purple stained tongue over his lips and Zach’s jeans tightened. “I plan to open in two weeks,can’t see any obstacles to that date. I’m going to start advertising next week, where do you advertise?”
“Uhm, well we had some flyers at the yoga centre once I think. And there was this local tradesmen’s paper thing last summer, we had an ad in that.”
“Oh sure, so you mostly do word of mouth? Website, facebook, twitter and stuff?”
Zach felt out of his depth again, how did this guy do it? “We don’t have any of that right now. Is that what you’re going to do?”
“Of course, it’s very low cost and it’s measurable, you can engage with your customers and start loyalty based initiatives like secret phrases for 50 cents off, tasting sessions, bonus cards, you know?”
“Isn’t that more for big chains? I mean, I don’t know whether that would work with our customers, they’re kind of set in their ways.”
“Yeah, like this morning proved that. They were all established customers, right?” Chris’s eyes sparkled and Zach nudged his leg with his foot playfully.
“Ok fine, maybe you’re right. I dunno, I don’t think about things like that, I’m not so much of a business man, I just like having the freedom to do what I want.”
“You want your business to work though, surely? That’s the ultimate compliment to your customers - if you don’t care about your business you can’t care about them.” Chris was leaning on his elbows, gesturing wildly.
“I care! I do! I just....I don’t know about all that corporate stuff.” Zach felt cowed, his earlier good mood starting to dissipate.
Unexpectedly, Chris reached out and took his hand. “I can see that you care, because you know your product and you weren’t too proud to take some advice. I think you can make things easier on yourself, make your customers feel really wanted, then that freedom you’re after will be easier to get because once the cash comes rolling in you could hire a manager maybe. Then you can be as free as you want!”
Zach heard only every other word as Chris’s hand warmed him. When the silence got weird Chris let go and blushed and they both giggled shyly. “Sorry, I bet you think I’m a real asshole, coming in here telling you what to do....”
“Not at all, it’s really nice to meet someone who does the same job as me, most of my friends, they have no real responsibilities, they expect me to close the store when I go on vacation. And usually, I’ll be honest, I do.”
“And let me guess, you spend your vacation worrying about the rent you have to pay when you come back, and whether your customers will find some place new that’s open every day from 8 til 6 without fail and which has a logo and a corporate office?”
“Pretty much exactly that. The week after I come back from vacation is always slow, people think we’ve closed down. That makes me think I never should have gone away, then I get stressed, then my friends tell me I’m a corporate shill and I need to spend six months living in a slum in Nigeria to get perspective on my first world problems.”
The bell tinkled and Eliza walked in, fiddling with her iPod and not even bothering to apologise. She went into the back and Chris smirked, tapping his watch. “Well, your 9.30 rush seems imminent so I’ll get out of your way. You busy tonight?”
Zach hesitated. “You think I should open late?”
Laughing, Chris picked up his paper. “No,I think you should have dinner with me. We can start a local business people’s dinner club and bitch about customers and being a corporate shill.”
“Okay, sure...”
“Great, meet me out front at 7.30 okay? I know a great place, you’ll love it.”
Zach watched him go, slightly befuddled. Was this a date? He picked up Chris’s empty paper cup and studied it in case Eliza had been mixing ingredients again.
“Was that that guy? He’s really hot, you should tap that.” Eliza helped herself to some cherries as she stared out of the window. “You know what’s weird though? His store is getting a neon sign, I saw them bring it when I was walking Kerouac last night. What kind of furniture store has a neon sign? He’s not opening at night,right? What is it like furniture for vampires? Oh my God! We should totally do a vampire smoothie, like with blood orange and stuff, it would be so awesome. Can we order some blood oranges?”
“What? Yeah, sure.” Zach let Eliza's stream of consciousness wash over him as he thought about what to wear for his date. “We already broke even today by the way, I opened at 8.30 and we got a rush.”
“Seriously? Do I have to start coming in at 8.30? Because that is going to throw my schedule a little.”
Zach smiled. If he got alone time with Chris she could come in at lunch time for all he cared. “No, it’s fine, come in when you usually do. And order those blood oranges, let’s go nuts!”
On to part 3