09-11-2013, 02:09 AM
Yuri kept eating and drinking his vodka, paying more attention to downing the vodka at this point. Bottle was about half gone, and he could feel his blissful cloud returning...and he almost thought he could sense the power at the edges of his imagination again.
He took another spoonful of the shchi. Yeah, that was good too. It was almost gone as well. He looked down and realized he'd eaten quickly out of habit. Down in the underground you had to do everything fast, but especially eat. When you were eating you were vulnerable, and if your meal got interrupted -- well, no telling when you would have the opportunity for another one.
Yuri took another pull from the bottle and noticed a shadow cast across the table. He looked up. Saw a right ugly looking motherfucker. Not a huge man, but damn did he have that looming presence. A muscular dude. His forehead thick and square like it'd been smacked with a snow shovel. A right proper Russian, definitely.
"Welcome to Igor's!" the man said, in crisp Russian. Definitely practiced. "How does your meal fare this day?"
Must be the manager, doing his self-important "job" of "checking in" on the guests at the restaurant who'd already been checked in on and helped. Too bad there wasn't a fly in the stew, Yuri would have flung it right at the guy and started an altercation right there that would throw the place in confusion long enough to score and get out.
Yuri noticed the guy had sent his serving girl over to the check-out counter. She was still eyeballing him. Maybe she'd complained about serving him and that's why the guy was here. Whatever. Yuri hadn't done anything to her that would get her panties in a wad, and certainly not her boss's. Not yet, at least.
Yuri looked up at the man and for a moment just stared at him. "Shchi's good here,"
he said finally. He hated giving compliments, but one was due in that respect. "Sauerkraut and bay leaves. Nice mix of flavor."
He took another pull of the vodka, just to wash out the bad taste of the compliment from his mouth. He set the bottle down on the table. "This vodka tastes like horse piss. But it gets the job done, so no complaints."
Yuri waved the man away with a motion of his hand. "I'm good. 'Xept that pizda --"
he pointed to the girl at the check-out counter -- needs to stop with the dirty looks."
That cunt over at the counter was still giving him that dirty look. Seriously, he was going to break her jaw if she kept doing that. What was everyone's problem here? Fucking manager getting up in his business, waitress being rude as all hell...Can't a guy get his drink on while he's figuring out how he's going to rob a place without being bothered anymore?
Shit like that was enough to piss him off.
The manager was still standing there. Yuri looked up at him again. "I said I'm good,"
he repeated, waving the man off again with one hand while the other pointing at his crotch. "Go. Idi na Khui."
He took another spoonful of the shchi. Yeah, that was good too. It was almost gone as well. He looked down and realized he'd eaten quickly out of habit. Down in the underground you had to do everything fast, but especially eat. When you were eating you were vulnerable, and if your meal got interrupted -- well, no telling when you would have the opportunity for another one.
Yuri took another pull from the bottle and noticed a shadow cast across the table. He looked up. Saw a right ugly looking motherfucker. Not a huge man, but damn did he have that looming presence. A muscular dude. His forehead thick and square like it'd been smacked with a snow shovel. A right proper Russian, definitely.
"Welcome to Igor's!" the man said, in crisp Russian. Definitely practiced. "How does your meal fare this day?"
Must be the manager, doing his self-important "job" of "checking in" on the guests at the restaurant who'd already been checked in on and helped. Too bad there wasn't a fly in the stew, Yuri would have flung it right at the guy and started an altercation right there that would throw the place in confusion long enough to score and get out.
Yuri noticed the guy had sent his serving girl over to the check-out counter. She was still eyeballing him. Maybe she'd complained about serving him and that's why the guy was here. Whatever. Yuri hadn't done anything to her that would get her panties in a wad, and certainly not her boss's. Not yet, at least.
Yuri looked up at the man and for a moment just stared at him. "Shchi's good here,"
he said finally. He hated giving compliments, but one was due in that respect. "Sauerkraut and bay leaves. Nice mix of flavor."
He took another pull of the vodka, just to wash out the bad taste of the compliment from his mouth. He set the bottle down on the table. "This vodka tastes like horse piss. But it gets the job done, so no complaints."
Yuri waved the man away with a motion of his hand. "I'm good. 'Xept that pizda --"
he pointed to the girl at the check-out counter -- needs to stop with the dirty looks."
That cunt over at the counter was still giving him that dirty look. Seriously, he was going to break her jaw if she kept doing that. What was everyone's problem here? Fucking manager getting up in his business, waitress being rude as all hell...Can't a guy get his drink on while he's figuring out how he's going to rob a place without being bothered anymore?
Shit like that was enough to piss him off.
The manager was still standing there. Yuri looked up at him again. "I said I'm good,"
he repeated, waving the man off again with one hand while the other pointing at his crotch. "Go. Idi na Khui."