01-27-2014, 05:11 PM
Jensen hid a yawn behind his hand. It was late afternoon, but he'd been awake less than an hour. He'd overslept the alarm that should have seen him arrive to the cafe on time. Instead, he'd scrambled about John's loft like a frantic college student and barely had time to shower before running out the door. The building doorman jumped none too pleased from the path of an extremely apologetic Jensen, who was more of a blurred blaze of an unbuttoned coat and flapping scarf.
Somehow, he made it to the cafe in the nick of time. God bless the Moscow metro system for operating with military precision. Once he gained his bearings after falling in the door, he realized nothing had changed about the place. It was on the same stop as where he hailed the bus that carried him to his old forklift job. Around the corner was a decent food market, too. The Tulskaya metro stop just shy of the third ring road in southern Moscow had some fantastic food carts, and his stomach rumbled just thinking about his usual fare on the way to work. One pirozhki stand in particular sold these individually sized baked buns stuffed with meats, mushrooms, rice and onions to die for, and were easy to eat and walk at the same time. On a cold winter's day like today, a steamy hot breakfast sounded fantastic. Tony probably was less enamored with them than Jensen, but when Jensen bought a biscuit from the counter, his stomach ached for pirozhki.
He went ahead and also purchased two cups of coffee for himself and Tony, who had been kind enough to meet him here, and was the reason Jensen hurried to arrive on time. His mother always said punctuality meant being early, but she would cringe to see her son arriving at the stroke of the clock as he had today.
Impolite as it appeared, he kept his coat on while seated. Not because he wanted to be prepared for the event of a quick getaway, but because the shop was rather drafty. The recent cold plunge seeped around the old windows and blew in his face every time the door opened.
Jensen was pushing disheveled hair from his eyes and nursing a creamy cup of coffee when he finally caught his breath at a table.
Edited by Jensen James, Jan 27 2014, 05:20 PM.
Somehow, he made it to the cafe in the nick of time. God bless the Moscow metro system for operating with military precision. Once he gained his bearings after falling in the door, he realized nothing had changed about the place. It was on the same stop as where he hailed the bus that carried him to his old forklift job. Around the corner was a decent food market, too. The Tulskaya metro stop just shy of the third ring road in southern Moscow had some fantastic food carts, and his stomach rumbled just thinking about his usual fare on the way to work. One pirozhki stand in particular sold these individually sized baked buns stuffed with meats, mushrooms, rice and onions to die for, and were easy to eat and walk at the same time. On a cold winter's day like today, a steamy hot breakfast sounded fantastic. Tony probably was less enamored with them than Jensen, but when Jensen bought a biscuit from the counter, his stomach ached for pirozhki.
He went ahead and also purchased two cups of coffee for himself and Tony, who had been kind enough to meet him here, and was the reason Jensen hurried to arrive on time. His mother always said punctuality meant being early, but she would cringe to see her son arriving at the stroke of the clock as he had today.
Impolite as it appeared, he kept his coat on while seated. Not because he wanted to be prepared for the event of a quick getaway, but because the shop was rather drafty. The recent cold plunge seeped around the old windows and blew in his face every time the door opened.
Jensen was pushing disheveled hair from his eyes and nursing a creamy cup of coffee when he finally caught his breath at a table.
Edited by Jensen James, Jan 27 2014, 05:20 PM.