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Post by Romano Vargas on Jan 22, 2012 22:20:50 GMT -5
Looking over his book, the brunette sighed. This was honestly horribly uninteresting. He had dealt with the bustling city, and wished he could take a break in a country, but his job really didn't allow it, and his money while very well off, since he was good with money, he still didn't care for spending it all in one place.
That was for some other fool. The lemon flavored lollipop in his mouth barely distracted him from the horror book he picked up from the library. Horror wasn't normally his favorite genre but this psychological thriller explored the reason, which he really liked. Yawning softly, he barely responded to the waitress that he had talked to earlier.
They knew each other from running into each other from the vet, but he thought she was a horrible pet owner. Romano didn't think her cat needed to be that skinny. Closing his book, he stared out to the sunny sky from the cafe. It was another busy day in another busy city.
He rather just sleep in, and not deal with any of the loud noises. Though he was just plain irritated today. The constant complaining of the waitresses at his job, about their boyfriends, about their families, and all that. Putting on a sweet smile and dealing with women was harder than it was supposed to be. He honestly hated it.
However he cooked up several new dishes that he was proud of. He was finally advancing and getting more offers on some jobs. It was pretty nice. He sighed, looking at the black book cover before picking up his warm coffee and sipping it. Today, he hoped something interesting would happen.
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Post by Lars Van Dyke on Feb 7, 2012 7:19:11 GMT -5
Lars was never one for sunny weather,
The pale Dutchman felt as if he was burning alive in only a simple White V-Neck that adorned his reddening skin; some simple denim jeans fitting long legs tucked into black boots; and why the ash blonde still decided to wear his scarf, creating beads of sweat to cascade down his adam's apple, was honestly beyond him. Perhaps it was the blue, and violet fabric crudely stitched to the old white material wrapped around his neck, that held more than just significant value.
The Dutchman released an impatient sigh as his steps slowed down due to overwhelming heat, as passerby Italians, nearly a whole foot shorter than the ash blonde passed. Though, Italy was many people's dream places to be, Lars' saw nothing special about the bustling "city of love."
He was here solely on business, receiving an art deal to have his drawings hung up in a popular cafe. He was merely on his way to meet his boss to sign off the creative rights to the establishment; though, he could not understand why he had to actually /be at the restaraunt/ rather than do it by mail. His logical boss was full of logic.
He made his way into the cafe, briefly leaning down slightly so he didn't bump his forehead onto the door.
Fuck, why are Italian people so short ...
Lars huffed, though, it maybe have just been that he was tall, but he took a seat at a random table, awaiting for his boss to arrive now; briefly sending him a text and receiving one back he was stuck in traffic, and would arrive in the next ten or fifteen. That would suffice for the Dutchman, as he merely picked up a menu to eat in the meantime. Already in a bad mood due to jetlag and an oncoming sunburn.
His golden orbs fixated themselves up on a passerby waiter, curly brown hair adorning his tanned skin, briefly catching his nametag.
"Romano."
The ash blonde snapped his fingers to catch his attention.
"I don't speak Italian. So hopefully, you speak English. Black coffee, that's it. If I need something else, i'll tell you."
With that, his eyes came back down to his menu and his cellphone, texting his boss and ignoring the Italian.
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Post by Romano Vargas on Feb 8, 2012 17:33:07 GMT -5
Romano never thought that today was going to be actually interesting. After all, unless his brother was around, everything went moderately okay. There were no fires, no girls falling over themselves for something and having to save anyone. Flipping a page in his book, he sighed in a sort of bored way. Having a life that never changed was honestly way too boring for the Sicilian to really ever enjoy.
Yawning softly, he looked back on the plane ride here the day before. It was nice and quiet, after coming back to his home country, and he felt much calmer here than he did in America. None the less he was still pissed off with everyone yaking about the most unimportant things.
No, he didn't care about the new and up and coming bands. No, he didn't care about the issues in the environment. Yes, he actually paid attention to the news and knew about politics. Yes, he paid attention to the economy woes. Yes, he wasn't all up in arms about this and that, things that didn't really matter.
Sighing quietly, he turned the lollipop on his mouth with his tongue, and continued to read distractedly. He could hear the people in the next table over chittering about their boyfriends and relationships. He honestly didn't care, but one of the girls had the most irritating voice.
Giving a tiny yawn, he closed his book, setting it on the table absently. He was on break for the restaurant next door, and didn't really want to hang around while they were having a birthday party for someone he really had no clue. He still had his nametag on probably. The cafe was alright, a bit here and there of Italian spice, but mostly modeled itself after modern themes which were beyond him.
He wasn't too good at decorating his own house. Romano still had girly cat figurines the old ladies got him in America. You didn't ever say no to the crazy cat ladies in wheelchairs. They would run you over. Giving a small blink as he looked up, he was mildly surprised when a man sat at his table, and snapped rudely at him.
His eyebrow twitched. "Fuck you. I don't work here idiot." He hissed darkly. Romano wasn't some waiter to be ordered around. "Stupid ogres will never order me around. Get a waitress in the bloody outfits to deal with you. Rude foreigners." Clicking his tongue, he leaned down to put his book back in his bag. He wasn't going to sit here and deal with such a rude giant that was honestly a bit intimidating, and no it wasn't because he was tall as a skyscraper.
It was because he was ugly.
Very ugly.
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Post by Lars Van Dyke on Feb 16, 2012 5:17:25 GMT -5
To say Lars was vaguely surprised was an understatement, his lips parted in shock and eyebrows knitted in anger. His fingers curled around the menu concealed in plastic.
Well, if anything good came out of the statement, was that he found out the Italian could speak English; even though Lars' was a tad accented. Sunned irises narrowed up at the Italian as he huffed in annoyance; of course it was wrong of the Dutchman to assume he was one of the workers' still, all Italians just ... looked the same in his opinion.
"Watch who the fuck you're talking to, shrimp."
The Dutchman stood to emphasize the monstorous height different between the two males. However, he did not want to start a fight, he did not want to make a scene or grab attention, which he successfully seemed to be doing so far as he gained the scrutinizing looks of the Sicilian cafe goers.
He sighed.
"What does a guy gotta do to get service around here?"
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