08-06-2014, 04:20 PM
The diner was noisy and full. There were signs of Christmas everywhere. There was a table of people with shopping bags stuffed under their legs, a pair of kids were huddled around a Wallet watching a holiday-themed show, and the conversations along the way were trimmed in excited chatter.
But that was all put aside when one angry customer took over their attentions. Jensen and Pyotr both turned to watch, but it was clear that the outburst was purely emotional and the situation was under control of management. Stress was high this time of year, tensions could snap and recoil at the slightest of offenses. Jensen hoped everyone involved would find peace.
They all exchanged names. Jensen with a warm, but hesitant smile. There would always remain that hypervigilent part of him that hoped he wasn't recognized. So far from Texas, he doubted it, but John and Connor had known him. Who knew how many more might? "Jensen, ma'am."
His coat went draped across the back of his chair and the button-up shirt beneath was glad for the air. The diner was stifling hot but the scents of a smoking grill and fresh pies weighed the atmosphere all the heavier. He ordered a cup of coffee, black, and extra strong and evident of its necessity, he yawned, an impolite gesture he quickly stifled behind his hands.
"Pleasure to meet you ma'am," he added then went on to explain that she was no more a third wheel than either of them. The two men were new acquaintances themselves. "Pyotr and I just met ourselves down the street at Mass. He helped me through the service. I'd never gone before."
It also gave him a way to avoid talking about employment. Or in his case, the lack of.
But that was all put aside when one angry customer took over their attentions. Jensen and Pyotr both turned to watch, but it was clear that the outburst was purely emotional and the situation was under control of management. Stress was high this time of year, tensions could snap and recoil at the slightest of offenses. Jensen hoped everyone involved would find peace.
They all exchanged names. Jensen with a warm, but hesitant smile. There would always remain that hypervigilent part of him that hoped he wasn't recognized. So far from Texas, he doubted it, but John and Connor had known him. Who knew how many more might? "Jensen, ma'am."
His coat went draped across the back of his chair and the button-up shirt beneath was glad for the air. The diner was stifling hot but the scents of a smoking grill and fresh pies weighed the atmosphere all the heavier. He ordered a cup of coffee, black, and extra strong and evident of its necessity, he yawned, an impolite gesture he quickly stifled behind his hands.
"Pleasure to meet you ma'am," he added then went on to explain that she was no more a third wheel than either of them. The two men were new acquaintances themselves. "Pyotr and I just met ourselves down the street at Mass. He helped me through the service. I'd never gone before."
It also gave him a way to avoid talking about employment. Or in his case, the lack of.