2011 04 17 Coffee And Some Chit Chat

Log Title:
Coffee and some Chit Chat

Phantasm, Invisible Woman

IC Date:
17 April 2011

Daily Grind

Brief log summary::
Susan comes into the shop to find a particular musician going through writer's block.


There is no TS in this log::

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-==[ Daily Grind - New York ]==--------—-

As soon as one enters via the lage glass door, they can catch the scent of any of a dozen coffee flavors in the air. There are usually two or three servers on duty, ready to whip up any of the coffees on the large menu that hangs over their heads. A rope-lined queue snakes from the counter in a flattened S. Couches and tables line the walls, the tables fitting four each, though there are large tables near the back of the establishment. The tiled floor has tables that fit anywhere from two people to six.

Near the counter is a rack of old magazines and books that people can peruse while they're there, and for a small fee patrons can hook up a laptop to the wireless network and access the internet. Overall, it's the kind of place where people can go and buy a cup of coffee and be left alone if they choose, or not. The Daily Grind has the sort of atmosphere that allows for groups of people to come together, or for one or two people to relax by themselves. Like any good coffee house, it allows for most forms of relaxation.

Sunday afternoons tend not to see as much traffic in the business district. The Upper West Side, however is NOT the business district. It has a nice chunk of people who actually live in the area and so the foot traffic around this time is considerably more. People leaving church services, others heading out to do errands they didn't have time to do on the weekends.

Although business within the Daily Grind is good, it does not reflect the traffic outside its doors as easily as one might think. Perhaps it is due to it being the weekend. Perhaps people are taking the time to just enjoy their coffee at home but the shop is oddly quiet, allowing for plenty of chairs to be open. And despite this, Mike finds himself once again seating himself towards the corner, dressed in his Goodwill purchased attire, signature hair stuffed underneath his usual knit cap and elbows resting upon the table he chose. A steaming cup of black coffee rests next to him while he stares blankly to the notepad he has open before him, tapping his pen along the written upon paper.

Susan Richards walks breezily into the coffee shop, waving hello to the barista who is alrady familiar with her — she's in here at least once a week getting coffee to brew at home if nothing else. Not noticing Mike's presence right off, she steps over to the counter and starts to place her order. Looks like she's in a pastry mood today.

With Mike's frequent presence within this cafe it's likely some rather bad timing that has prevented such a run in before. The pen lowers to the pad as Mike lets go of the writing utensil to use the now freed hand towards his face rubbing it as he stifles a yawn. The hand flops down as he shakes his head. Ok maybe he's going to need two coffees.

Susan Richards gets her pastry and a cup of hot tea (still steeping) and turns to find a seat. Instead she finds Mike sitting there looking like he's had zero sleep. Again. As usual. Stepping over with the quiet footfalls of long practice, she gets a look at the paper in front of the man and has to comment idly, "Writer's block?"

At the familiar voice coming in upon his relatively quiet afternoon, Mike shakes his head. "More just being tired," he answers, glancing towards the superheroine and cracking a slight smile. He glances to the empty seat in front of him, waving a hand towards it in a silent invitiation for the woman to take it if she wishes to. "Ok, maybe a little bit of writer's block. But mainly the tired."

Susan Richards nods her thanks and claims the offered seat. "So that insomnia is still bothering you?" She sounds a bit apologetic, but is trying to be careful how she phrases things. "I take it you've already seen a doctor about it?"

Mike nods, "Aunt dragged me to one when she realized how much of a problem it was." He gives a bit of a shrug as he reaches for his coffee, "Sleep disorder. Medicine and a basic schedule for when to take it. It has helped." Bringing the full strength beverage to his lips he pauses, lingering in the aroma of the beverage before taking a sip.

Susan Richards looks at Mike for a moment before taking a sip of her own tea. "If this is 'helped', you must have been really bad before." The genuine concern is clear in her eyes, as is the silent reiteration of her offer to help.

"You could say that. It kind of indirectly got me expelled." Mike admits, oddly smiling lazily despite the subject matter, "But it helped. You just caught me at probably the longest point since I've taken any to balance the sleep stuff out."

Susan Richards ohs softly, plucking the teabag from her cup and setting it aside. "I wish there was more I could do to help. You deserve the chance to go back to school."

Mike sips his drink quietly before setting the cup back down. "It's alright. I hated that place. Probably better it turned out like that anyways." He gives a bit of a chuckle, closing his notebook. "Besides, that's what GEDs are for, right? For those who can't or won't finish it the traditional route?"

Susan Richards smiles a bit, though there's a sadness behind it. "You do have a point there." She looks at the pastry on her plate and pushes it forward a bit. "Do you want half of this?"

Mike glances down to the pastry, brow arching a bit before he shakes his head, "Oh no. I'm good with the coffee." He lifts up the cup in illustration of the point before he leans back a bit, "Thanks for the offer though." Mike's head tilts, glancing to the woman's expression. "If it makes things any better my aunt and I decided on the GED rather than the alternative school. And being that I was able to get it isn't so bad either. Just opened me up for looking for work a bit earlier."

Susan Richards says, "Ah." She doesn't really see, though. And she'll admit it, she thought Mike was older than someone whose state as a high school drop out still proved to be a sore point. She doesn't want to admit it, though. "What kinds of jobs, if I may be a bit nosy?"

"Oh geez," Mike comments with a laugh, "Um. I worked as a bagger for a bit, um the answering phones one didn't last long, a few cashier jobs. Ok, a lot of cashier jobs." Mike brings the cup back up towards his mouth, "Annnnd then one of them led to me running into Rod and then the others and we made a band." He pauses for another sip of his coffee.

Susan Richards nods again, almost sagely. "Yeah, I've done my stint in the trenches too, and that was /with/ a college degree." She takes another sip of her tea.

"Got to get work experience somewhere." Mike agrees in regards to the trenches classification, his cup lowers, setting towards the table, "So how are things going for you, Mrs Richards?"

Susan Richards smiles. "As well as always. Honestly, by this point in time life becomes very routine. GEtting up at the same time every morning to get Franklin to school on time, day to day chores that are seemingly never-ending, and then ending the day at the same time every day so that it'll start all over again tomorrow." She picks at the pastry for a moment. "It's not all bad, mind you, and our lives are anything but routine one hundred percent of the time, but you get my gist, right?

"So things are quiet for the moment." Mike surmises from the response, giving a bit of a nod, "Nothing wrong with getting into a routine every so often. Kind of therapeutic at times."

Susan Richards smiles and nods. "That is true. Routine is very restful sometimes. It's just a good thing that I've always been a morning person."

"I'm more of a night person." Mike reveals, which isn't that impressive considering the occupation. He tilts his coffee cup back, downing what is rest of the contents before setting the cup back down. "Except for tonight. Sundays have a different routine."

Susan Richards chuckles softly. "You and Johnny both. Practically two peas in a pod. I used to tease him about waking up at the butt-crack of four pm."

"Ok I wake up earlier than that," Mike protests lightly, threading the clip of his pin along the spine of the notepad, "I just take most of the morning to wake up." He gives a glance to his watch, "Just, during the busy season the concerts tend to be in the afternoon or evenings."

Susan Richards notices the glance at the wristwatch. "You have a point there. I just dislike that I'm slowly but surely losing my ability to pull all-nighters like I did all the time in college."

The wrist flicks away from Mike's glancing eyes as the musician looks towards Susan, "All-nighters come easy enough. It's continually rising in the morning that's the difficult part." He gives a tilt of his head in inquiry, "So being that you are loosing your ability to pull all-nighters, does that mean the nightlife will not be enjoying your presence about the city during the evening?"

Susan Richards says, "Well, it likely will, it just means that Reed or Ben has to get Franklin to school in the morning because I'm too bleary to function coherently."

And your brother has already been ruled out because by the time he wakes up, school is over." Mike muses, nodding his head as he folds his arms, "I'll be sitting tonight out."

Susan Richards grins a bit at that. "Actually, he takes Franklin to school regularly, before he goes to sleep for the day."

"So that's why he's waking up around 4." Mike murmurs, hand resting upon his notepad, "I probably should start heading back to the apartment. I have a few things to get taken care of before I turn in for the day."

Susan Richards nods, eating one last morsel of the pastry before finishing her tea. "I hope you rest well today, and I mean real, honest sleep. But if not, don't hesitate to call. If I'm not up, Johnny should be."

"I wouldn't worry about it tonight Mrs. Richards," Mike assures, starting to get up to his feet, "Tonight is the night for the other type of sleep so I should be well rested whenever I wake up."

Susan Richards says, "Okay, Mike. But the offer stands anytime, not just tonight." She gets ready to leave also, dusting off her hands and standing. "Take care of yourself, all right?"

Mike nods, picking up his notepad and his empty cup. There is a bit of an impish quality to his already present smileas he offers in a solemn voice, "I promise I won't let the bed hurt me. It'll be tough. Those pillow ninjas are a real pain."

Susan Richards laughs softly. "See that you don't, or I'll to find a woobie for you."

Giving a chuckle, Mike starts moving from the table, giving a bit of a wave towards the heroine, "Til we meet again…" He strolls towards the door to start his trip back home.

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