Looking for Gigs - Finding a Foul Mouth
Feb. 2nd, 2015 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no_leafA cold Detroit day, sucky weather, the type of day that inspired California Dreaming. And certainly coffeeshops are open, and in this case, one of the espresso machines has broken. And so Maurtis was called to repair it, and the work is finishing.
The rumble of an engine needing a little attention can be heard before the GMC truck can be seen. When it does come into view, it's inching up precariously close to the Mustang parked outside. As it stops, the car shifts forward and back to its final resting place and a young woman hops out of the drivers side. Into the coffee shop she goes, giving the place a look around as she takes her first step in.
Maurtis takes a step back from the machine. "All right. You had clogged lines...just fucking keep to the maintenance schedule and it won't happen again, ok?" The proprieter nods, "And now you got both of 'em working." Mars grins back and sighs, before putting some tools up in a nice, old-fashioned toolbox.
Mack raises an eyebrow at the language the repair man offers to, presumably, the man employing him for the job. She takes a step aside from the door and pulls the knit beanie from her head, then moves to find a seat at a table set off to the side.
Maurtis finishes up with packing tools and stands up then, looking around, eyes going over customers, and he gives nods to them, including the newcomer in the knit beanie. He seems more the preppy type, except, well, the language and the tools. Maybe something more like a Swiss watchmaker. "Who'll be first t'try the sh--stuff now? Anyone? Or do I gotta do it myself?"
Mack keeps where she is, though at the nod and the look she raises a shoulder, "Don't look at me. I'm just after a regular cup o'joe." She shifts back in her seat a bit at this and glances back toward the man behind the counter.
"Fine. You get the regular stuff. I'll have the black sludge. Turkish! No sugar. ONe of those froo-froo gingersnaps, too. Lady gets a cuppa." Mars takes a seat then and inhales before relaxing on a longer exhale.
Mack finds herself keeping a more wary eye on the outgoing repairmen now that his work is finished, though she doesn't look anxious over it. After a moment she stands up to head to the counter and give the barista a nod, "Just a small cup of coffee, black. Thanks." As money is exchanged, she adds a quick, "Are you the owner or manager of this cafe?"
The barista makes the small coffee, black, and it does indeed go fast and smooth. The guy behind says, "Yeah, it's my place. Why?" The guy who finished the reapirs comes back and gets his exceedingly strong coffee.
Mack offers as sweet of a smile as she can, "Oh great. I wanted to know if you allow performers to come in and play for tips."
There's a thought for a moment. "Sure. Complaints mean you get shut down. Increased business for us means I can comp you some drinks. fair enough?"
Mack offers a grin and nods, "That's fantastic. Beats playing outside in the cold. Thank you, thank you so much Mister...?" she leaves the last open in hope of getting a name. And it's just about this time that the coffee is ready, so she takes that in hand too with a pleased grin.
"Calthrop," is the reply, and he grins a bit. "If you're good, we'll get you back on open mic night, miss...?"
"Mackenzie," she offers. "Thank you, that sounds real good. I'll come back in tomorrow morning, and give it a go. If it seems to go well I'll come back on Sunday. Thanks!" She takes her coffee then and returns to her seat, looking around the shop once more as if silently plotting where she'll set up to play.
"Not much here on Sunday what with the Super Bowl, Mackenzie," Mr. Calthrop says. "You might not want to come back that day. Tomorrow'll be pretty good, though."
"Oh right," she calls from her seat, nodding. "Forgot about that. Just tomorrow then." With her business settled she takes a sip of her coffee and looks around again, seeing what the repairman is up to now.
Maurtis is drinking his coffee, the old wooden toolbox next to him. "Another musician? What do you play? What music do you like?"
Mack cants her head in thought, then relents with an answer, "Guitar, and I dunno. A wide mix. Rock, blues-rock. You said another. Is that because you play?"
Maurtis shakes his head. "Just run into a few recently. Guitar. winds. I play the radio, but can fix dam near anything as long as i don't have to deal with circuit boards."
"And so long as you can swear at it, apparently." Mack grins a bit at this. "Hey, was one of these other musicians you've seen named Maya? Sings, plays the guitar?"
Maurtis shrugs. "Dunno. Met a girl that sings and plays guitar. Really pretty quartz pendant that someone did a shitty job of wrapping in silver. Drives a fucking /Pinto/ that I had to patch up."
Mack thinks on the description a bit and then shakes her head, "Didn't notice if she was wearing any pendants, and she walked home from the place. So, maybe not." At the mention of the car she looks out to her truck. "What was wrong with her car?"
"Water pump starting to fail. If it'd broke, well...but I fixed the bastard, because even a piece of shit car shouldn't run shittily, you know?" He takes a sip of coffee and grimaces.
Mack grunts. "Shitty." She nods out to the Yukon. "You able to tell what's wrong just by hearing it run?"
Maurtis shakes his head. "Naw. pushed it to where I could pop the hood and take a look. Anyone who says they can tell what's wrong just by listening, well..."
"Well could you pop the hood here and give it a peek? Or you need stuff handy to poke around in there? It's running rough. Just ... loud and growly. Like a pissed off cat." Mack relays.
Maurtis hmmphs. "Sure. Looking and listening's free. You want it fixed, well...I can do it cheaper than a garage, or if you don't have money, I'll sometimes accept favors." He starts to stand, and then settles down. "After we finish the coffee."
That brow goes up again at the mention of favors, but she doesn't comment on it. "Yeah, wasn't saying to drop everything and run back into the cold. Just want to make sure it's not gonna go tits up on me."
Maurtis mms. "All right. Well...now's better, can get warm again after." He stands up and shrugs on a jacket before picking his toolbox up. "Let's go outside and see what the 4-0-7-7's going on." He steps towards the door and opens it, holding it for her.
Mack considers that and then nods in agreement. Her coffee comes with her though- it's paid up and damn if she wants to risk it being tossed on her. She steps through the held door with just a hint of skepticism, and then moves toward the truck. After getting the door open, she turns the ignition and the car growls back into life. It is running hard, and there is a low pitched grinding sound even sitting in idle.
The rumble of an engine needing a little attention can be heard before the GMC truck can be seen. When it does come into view, it's inching up precariously close to the Mustang parked outside. As it stops, the car shifts forward and back to its final resting place and a young woman hops out of the drivers side. Into the coffee shop she goes, giving the place a look around as she takes her first step in.
Maurtis takes a step back from the machine. "All right. You had clogged lines...just fucking keep to the maintenance schedule and it won't happen again, ok?" The proprieter nods, "And now you got both of 'em working." Mars grins back and sighs, before putting some tools up in a nice, old-fashioned toolbox.
Mack raises an eyebrow at the language the repair man offers to, presumably, the man employing him for the job. She takes a step aside from the door and pulls the knit beanie from her head, then moves to find a seat at a table set off to the side.
Maurtis finishes up with packing tools and stands up then, looking around, eyes going over customers, and he gives nods to them, including the newcomer in the knit beanie. He seems more the preppy type, except, well, the language and the tools. Maybe something more like a Swiss watchmaker. "Who'll be first t'try the sh--stuff now? Anyone? Or do I gotta do it myself?"
Mack keeps where she is, though at the nod and the look she raises a shoulder, "Don't look at me. I'm just after a regular cup o'joe." She shifts back in her seat a bit at this and glances back toward the man behind the counter.
"Fine. You get the regular stuff. I'll have the black sludge. Turkish! No sugar. ONe of those froo-froo gingersnaps, too. Lady gets a cuppa." Mars takes a seat then and inhales before relaxing on a longer exhale.
Mack finds herself keeping a more wary eye on the outgoing repairmen now that his work is finished, though she doesn't look anxious over it. After a moment she stands up to head to the counter and give the barista a nod, "Just a small cup of coffee, black. Thanks." As money is exchanged, she adds a quick, "Are you the owner or manager of this cafe?"
The barista makes the small coffee, black, and it does indeed go fast and smooth. The guy behind says, "Yeah, it's my place. Why?" The guy who finished the reapirs comes back and gets his exceedingly strong coffee.
Mack offers as sweet of a smile as she can, "Oh great. I wanted to know if you allow performers to come in and play for tips."
There's a thought for a moment. "Sure. Complaints mean you get shut down. Increased business for us means I can comp you some drinks. fair enough?"
Mack offers a grin and nods, "That's fantastic. Beats playing outside in the cold. Thank you, thank you so much Mister...?" she leaves the last open in hope of getting a name. And it's just about this time that the coffee is ready, so she takes that in hand too with a pleased grin.
"Calthrop," is the reply, and he grins a bit. "If you're good, we'll get you back on open mic night, miss...?"
"Mackenzie," she offers. "Thank you, that sounds real good. I'll come back in tomorrow morning, and give it a go. If it seems to go well I'll come back on Sunday. Thanks!" She takes her coffee then and returns to her seat, looking around the shop once more as if silently plotting where she'll set up to play.
"Not much here on Sunday what with the Super Bowl, Mackenzie," Mr. Calthrop says. "You might not want to come back that day. Tomorrow'll be pretty good, though."
"Oh right," she calls from her seat, nodding. "Forgot about that. Just tomorrow then." With her business settled she takes a sip of her coffee and looks around again, seeing what the repairman is up to now.
Maurtis is drinking his coffee, the old wooden toolbox next to him. "Another musician? What do you play? What music do you like?"
Mack cants her head in thought, then relents with an answer, "Guitar, and I dunno. A wide mix. Rock, blues-rock. You said another. Is that because you play?"
Maurtis shakes his head. "Just run into a few recently. Guitar. winds. I play the radio, but can fix dam near anything as long as i don't have to deal with circuit boards."
"And so long as you can swear at it, apparently." Mack grins a bit at this. "Hey, was one of these other musicians you've seen named Maya? Sings, plays the guitar?"
Maurtis shrugs. "Dunno. Met a girl that sings and plays guitar. Really pretty quartz pendant that someone did a shitty job of wrapping in silver. Drives a fucking /Pinto/ that I had to patch up."
Mack thinks on the description a bit and then shakes her head, "Didn't notice if she was wearing any pendants, and she walked home from the place. So, maybe not." At the mention of the car she looks out to her truck. "What was wrong with her car?"
"Water pump starting to fail. If it'd broke, well...but I fixed the bastard, because even a piece of shit car shouldn't run shittily, you know?" He takes a sip of coffee and grimaces.
Mack grunts. "Shitty." She nods out to the Yukon. "You able to tell what's wrong just by hearing it run?"
Maurtis shakes his head. "Naw. pushed it to where I could pop the hood and take a look. Anyone who says they can tell what's wrong just by listening, well..."
"Well could you pop the hood here and give it a peek? Or you need stuff handy to poke around in there? It's running rough. Just ... loud and growly. Like a pissed off cat." Mack relays.
Maurtis hmmphs. "Sure. Looking and listening's free. You want it fixed, well...I can do it cheaper than a garage, or if you don't have money, I'll sometimes accept favors." He starts to stand, and then settles down. "After we finish the coffee."
That brow goes up again at the mention of favors, but she doesn't comment on it. "Yeah, wasn't saying to drop everything and run back into the cold. Just want to make sure it's not gonna go tits up on me."
Maurtis mms. "All right. Well...now's better, can get warm again after." He stands up and shrugs on a jacket before picking his toolbox up. "Let's go outside and see what the 4-0-7-7's going on." He steps towards the door and opens it, holding it for her.
Mack considers that and then nods in agreement. Her coffee comes with her though- it's paid up and damn if she wants to risk it being tossed on her. She steps through the held door with just a hint of skepticism, and then moves toward the truck. After getting the door open, she turns the ignition and the car growls back into life. It is running hard, and there is a low pitched grinding sound even sitting in idle.
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