2024-11-20 - Popcorn Thievery

Wednesday afternoons at the Spider Walk are relatively quiet. Most people come in the evenings after they've tucked their kiddos away with someone to watch them, or they've finished running around the park unless there's some kind of event. So afternoons are kind of slow. Some park visitor regulars drop by during this time and other park employees on their work breaks, but otherwise it's mostly Lennox behind the bar doing prep work and any cleaning that needs doing. And that is what he is doing at the moment, just restocking clean glasses into their racks above the bar and below, making sure the various garnish containers are topped up with fresh garnishes, and puttering around. There are a couple of guests in the seating area near the fireplace enjoying the coziness, but the one server on duty is checking in on them.

Thankfully, River finished her work a bit early today. The weather helped: no one wants popcorn when it might rain any minute. Rather than head straight home, she changed into her own clothes and took the park herself, still feeling like she hasn't seen all the sights even after a few months here.

She has been to the Spookeasy already, though. Which is how she knows right where to go. And, once inside, she heads right for the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools, diligently ignoring the guests that are here.

"Hi!" she greets, quite chipper, although she immediately looks like she might regret the level of chipperness. Too much?? Maybe too much. Slouching down a bit, she offers a smaller, slightly apologetic smile. "Um, you look familiar. Have you worked here long? I'm--" she pauses, fishing around in her bag until she pulse out the top she wore today, nametag visible: RIVER. "Been here a few months."

Lennox glances up as River takes up a spot at one of the stools and gives her an up-nod of greeting and an amused smile. One brow lofts when she goes fishing around for her bag and produces her nametag. "Did you need to get that out because it's been such a bad day you've forgotten your name? Or because you thought I wouldn't believe that was your name if you told me? Answer carefully. It will determine what I pour for you." He's very clearly kidding, though. "Lennox, and yeah, I've been here since the park opened. What can I get for you?"

River smiles sheepishly, shoving her shirt back into her bag. "I thought you wouldn't believe that I worked here," she admits, before leaning in with renewed interest. "Which wasn't even an option. What does that mean for the drink I get?" The intrigue is palpable.

So when he asks for her order, she sits back with a laugh. "A whiskey sour, please."

"If it's a bad enough day, you get the extra strong version," Lennox says and then chuckles. "Oh, I know you work here. I've seen you. With the popcorn, right?" He doesn't mention where or how he's seen her, but it's said with easy enough confidence that he's probably not making it up. With her order placed, he goes about grabbing a metal cup and into it goes the bitters, egg white, simple syrup, orange, and lemon juices before the whiskey is poured in and it's given a good shake. Then, the ice cubes are added and it's given another solid shake before being strained into a rocks glass with ice. This, he sets before her.

River looks surprised that she's been recognized. It's not like she's been selling popcorn in the bar. "There has to be a lot of vendors out there," she points out with a glance towards the door. Not that she can see what's out there from here, but she can imagine it.

What he's doing is far more interesting though, and she's soon settled back in with her full attention on the process of making her drink. "I've been here a few times, too. I like the vibe, and it's a good spot to find a quiet place and a good drink. I wouldn't normally drink so early, but..." She shrugs. "I'm done working."

"There are a lot of vendors out there," Lennox confirms with a flicker of a smile. "There are a lot of birds in the park, too."

Once she has her drink in front of her, he's moving to pour a couple more that go on a tray to be picked up by the server on duty and taken over to those gathered throughout the room. "Congrats on making it through the day," he says. "I like it here. It's not usually a rowdy crowd. But it's usually a fun crowd. More laid back."

River leans onto the bar, head canting a few degrees to one side. "And are you a bird watcher as well?" she wonders, one corner of her mouth creeping up in a hint of a smile.

"Thanks," is offered for the drink - as well as whatever money is appropriate - and she takes a sip while she watches him continue his work. "Where did you bartend before this?" she wonders. "Assuming that's what you did. I mean, you don't seem new to it."

"No," Lennox says. "I'm a bird," as he pours out a pint into a glass and sets it on a tray.

The thanks is accepted and the pay for the drink. Once he has the other tray off on its way he leans back against the counter behind him, hands sliding into his pockets. "A few different places around Detroit. It's where I lived before I came out here." He shakes his head, "Been doing it for a while now. What about you? What'd you do before you came and joined the chaos?"

I'm a bird, the man says. River is left gaping at him, trying to puzzle out what that means. "So, like..." she hazards to say after a long moment. "...a bird bird or?" It's a dumb question, and she looks like she knows it's a dumb question, and she's here saying it anyways. Grimacing at herself as she does.

Moving on! "Oh, so you're a native. That's cool. Uh. I'm from British Columbia." Just saying 'Canada' feels silly when the country is just over there, and that's not the part she's from. "And I had a stupid recruiting job before this, but... it turns out when no one is hiring, no one needs recruiters."

"A raven-shaped bird," Lennox says in answer to the question, as though it were the sort of question and answer that is not at all strange. Though she may in fact have remembered a large raven with blue eyes that was especially fond of stealing kernels of popcorn from people's abandoned containers, and sometimes even ones still actively in use.

It is quite literally just over there. Boat far enough north and one would land on the shore. He dips his head when she mentions that she is Canadian. The mention of the recruiting job gains a bit of a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, kind of tough to recruit if nobody is looking to hire anyone. At least here there are definitely people looking to eat popcorn."

River very well may remember the peculiar-eyed bird, but she's not about to say it. Just in case she'd be randomly accusing a perfectly normal man of turning into a popcorn-stealing bird. So instead, all she says is, "Ah, of course." As if this all makes sense, and isn't at all strange.

"And affordable employee housing," she adds, still moving on from this bird thing. "As long as I can afford a place to live and eat, I'm happy for now. It's not like recruiting was my dream job."

And yet, it would be an entirely accurate accusation. And her response just makes him smile with amusement. "Some of the animals in this park can be particularly bold," he says with an amused smile. "Particularly the ones that are normally people-shaped."

"Definitely a bonus," he agrees. "It's a little weird having my rent taken straight out of my paycheck but it does mean that it's never late." Which could be a silver lining, one supposes. "And not having to remember to pay for utilities is pretty good." Then he tilts his head a little and asks, "What would be your dream job?"

River nods along, but she's definitely now thinking about every animal encounter she's had since moving here. That cat that sometimes hangs out behind the hot dog stand? The crow she's been trying to befriend by giving it popcorn? The squirrels?!

She takes a long drink, fortifying herself against this realization, and manages a smile. "Yea I don't mind it. It's not like I can spend the money anyway. It's just one less thing to worry about," she agrees. As for her dream job? That smile shifts into a sheepish one, and heat creeps into her cheeks. "Oh, I don't even know anymore. I used to want to be an olympic athlete," she says, laughing at such a thing. "But right now, it's enough to just be paid a comfortable wage."

It is definitely a little bit of a mean streak in Lennox that he puts these thoughts into people's heads and lets the paranoia begin to simmer. Question everything. The animals are watching. He just smiles a bit as he lets her percolate on that.

Both brows rise a little as that color creeps into her cheeks, expression intrigued. Just what could be her dream job to illicit that response? "Oh hey," he says when she mentions the Olympics. "That's a big dream. What sport?" he asks, clearly interested. Though he does seem to get the alternate dream, too, nodding slightly. "I wanted a music career. I'm alright with slinging drinks and performing here and there when the opportunity arises."

River could speculate about the owls not being what they seem all day, but she has a drink and a bartender all to herself, so for now she does her best to push those thoughts into the far reaches of her thoughts.

"Downhill skiing and slalom," she admits, still looking sheepish, still blushing. "I grew up skiing. But it didn't work out." Laughing, she rolls her eyes at herself. "Obviously. What kind of music do you do? I play a little guitar, but I'm not, like, make money at it good."

Lennox gives a little nod and looks impressed at the two sports of choice. "Throwing yourself down a hill real fast and then trying to do it with any sort of control around a bunch of little flags takes some skill," he opines. But there's a certain sympathy there for things not working out. "Know how that goes." As for what he plays, "Mostly rock, punk, emo.. or whatever covers strike me at the time." Then he chuckles and says, "Obviously neither am I, because here I am."

"Yea," River agrees with a grin. "And some balls. I haven't competed in ages now, but I still love to ski at least. So. At least I got a fun hobby out of the whole experience?" This is her working really hard to try and figure out a positive angle to it all.

She lifts her eyebrows at his musical choices. "Emo? Like Dashboard Confessional or...? I'm not actually sure I know about any other bands that count as emo." His joke has her laughing, and she lifts her glass to her lips. "And you still get to play music. So. Here's to failing but coming out of it with good hobbies?"

"And some balls," he agrees without hesitation. "I've tried skiing a couple of times but I am all limbs and no control. It's messy. And probably best left to people who have that kind of skill." He does lift his bottled water toward her though and says, "To failing into jobs that pay cash money and good hobbies," before taking a swallow from the bottle. "So, are you planning on doing any of the decorating shifts next weekend? I'm definitely collecting some overtime for that."

River cants her head to the side, grinning when Lennox agrees. "Well, you're tall," she points out, eyeing what's visible from his head to his torso. "Unless you've got some kind of platform over there. It's harder when you're taller. Higher center of gravity and all that."

When he lifts his water, she laughs and does a more proper toast to that before taking a drink. It's a moment before she answers, "Oh, totally. I'm almost always down for that overtime. You?"

Lennox glances down and says, "You got me. I'm standing on three phone books back here. Don't tell anybody," before smiling amusedly. There is, in fact, no platform behind the bar. He's just tall. "Yeah," he says. "Definitely. I want the overtime and it just sounds fun -- staying up all night and hanging up decorations and hanging out with folks. I'll regret it later after not sleeping but that's what caffeine is for."

"I knew it," River says with a lopsided grin. "But don't worry, your secret is safe with me." She mimes zipping up her lips, then tossing the key over her shoulder.

It's not very effective though, because a moment later she's finishing off her drink and talking again. "It does sound fun! I don't even remember the last time I did an all-night anything. And I feel like we'd regret it more if we didn't go, right?"

But her drink is finished, and while she does eye the bottles behind the bar with some amount of longing, she starts to get up instead. "I should go be responsible and find some groceries. But it was nice, uh... formally meeting you?" Because stealing her popcorn in bird form does not count. "And hey, if you ever want some popcorn that isn't second-hand, just shoot me a text!"