Starring:
Summary: The rough-and-tumble bar sees some unlikely faces, thanks to it being a night to get lost in South Central.
Date It Happened: December 17, 2001
Directions
Gary's Last Rite
A regular night at The Riot sees the usual rough crowd gathering, though it's still early and there's a compelling sports match on the TV, so it's actually relatively subdued for the moment. There's the usual din of conversation, and the blaring sound of the announcers on the TVs, both competing to be heard over the other.
Daisy has … taken a wrong turn, somewhere. She could have sworn the man said to go left, but she /went/ left and then found herself in a very bad part of town. When some creepy guy with really bad skin started following her, she ducked into the first open establishment to happen along, which is how she comes to be setting foot inside this joint.
Nadira ducks through the door after Daisy. Bundled up in a raincoat and carrying an umbrella (now neatly furled), she mutters something about camels and armpits as she begins to try to make her way to the bar.
Francis is not quite a regular, but it's a place he visits from time to time. He's there in leather jacket, jeans, and t-shirt, taking up a barstool and absentedly working his way through whiskey, eyeing a soccer match on one of the TVs, albeit without much enthusiasm. Daisy gets a lazy once-over as she comes in, before Frank sits up and eyes her a little more intently. Talk about a little lost lamb.
"Oh COME ON! That's not even legal!"
Ladies and Gentlemen? Jackson Archer. He's in a small crowd of people that look almost like they've been hired to hang around with the action hero, but he's not even paying attention to the Entourage that he's been given for the evening. In fact, he's more worried about the soccer game that's going on at the moment. He must be going for the team that's losing, since he's brimming with the passion of a man that's been on the losing team's side for the better part of the game.
Daisy steps well away from the door, glancing back over as Nadira enters, worried it's the weird guy. When it's not, she just crosses her arms to rub each upper arm with the opposite hand, and then steps rather hesitantly towards the bar. Her eyes widen at the site of a very large and tattooed man and she opts to move down the length of bar before actually daring to approach it. She's so out of her element, she's not even looking to spot a friendly face since she wouldn't expect to find one here.
Which has her nearly backing into Francis. He gently puts out a hand to stop Daisy, and call her attention to him. "Hey," he says, amiably. "This doesn't seem like your sort of place." Well, he's presuming, yeah.
Nadira does not have Daisy's problems with bars, but neither does she expect to find much of anything in here at all. She goes straight up to the bar, over to the bartender and says just loudly enough for him to hear, "How can I get on the 110 Freeway from here?"
Unfortunately, Jackson is not really paying attention to anything but the game. That is, well, until he reaches down to grab his glass and finds that it has no more beer in it. "Oh what the hell, man." And a glance to the table proves that the pitcher is also empty. Which is just not kosher. "Dammit." And so he's climbing out of his chair and shoving his way through his own Entourage and even some of the other patrons, to get to the bar, where the bartender is going to hear his shout of: "Yo! I need another pitcher!" And his eyes are pulled to another one of the monitors. Sports is a major distraction.
Daisy jumps and whirls at the touch, clearly jumpy after being followed. When she discovers it's actually someone she knows, she lets out a relieved laugh, putting a hand over her racing heart. "It's … not," she agrees wryly. "I think I took a wrong turn and … And that's my boss," she goes on in an entirely different and surprised tone, one thought not actually meant to be attached to the other. Jackson's just managed to catch her attention with his shouting.
And Francis's as well. He nods to her, and then peers beyond her at Jackson, nonplussed to say the least. Well, only one answer to that. "Buy you a drink?" he says, simply. "I mean, you're here, whether you meant to be or not. Shame to waste the trip." He punctuates that with a grin meant to be disarming.
Nadira decides Jackson might be more informative than the bartender. "Excuse me, sir," she asks him, "how can I get to the 110 Freeway from here?"
Jackson hasn't even noticed that Daisy is in the vicinity. He's busy watching the monitor and leaning back against the bar, awaiting the pitcher to be filled with delicious alcoholic beverages of doom. "Huh?" His eyes are pulled in the direction of Nadira and he offers a half-hearted shrug. "It's uh…" Pausing, he looks over towards his table and raises his voice even higher! "Hey! Hey Miles! Tell this chick how to get to 110!" And there's pointing off in that direction to the man in the driver's cap!
Daisy is still keeping an eye on Jackson, but since he hasn't noticed her and thus doesn't require anything from her, she really sees no need to turn down Francis's offer, looking back over at him with a little grin and a shrug. "Yeah, when in Rome, right? One drink won't hurt. If you're sure you don't mind." She returns the grin, seeming thoroughly disarmed if she ever was, in fact, armed.
"Name your poison," Frank says, amiably, lifting his drink in salute. And then he eyes her sharply for a moment. "I'm assuming you're legal. It'd look really retarded for a cop to buy an underage girl a drink, please," he adds, somewhat apologetically.
Nadira makes her way over to the gentleman in the driver's cap, a.k.a. Miles, and repeats her question about the 110 Freeway.
Miles looks annoyed but when he remembers that he's getting paid, he proceeds to run off at the mouth about a turn here and a turn there, followed by a merging to the left lane and then riding that all the way through four stop lights, where there's a right turn, an exxon and then… basically the directions are so horrible, it doesn't even make sense to keep listening to them.
As for Jackson, he finds himself with a pitcher of beer and some tossing of cash onto the bar. Too much cash, but he's got enough money to afford such huge tips. It's about this moment that he notices, "D.G.?" A quick glance to the television and, "OH YES! YES! SCORE BABY! HELL YEAH!" And the raising of his hands sends beer all over the place. Oops.
"I'm legal, promise," Daisy replies with a grin, watching Nadira head over towards the driver and looking a little bemused that Jackson is now sending women somewhere that's not around him. "I can show you ID if you want," she goes on, turning back to Francis. "And, well, thanks for thinking I look young enough to ask," she adds with a laugh. Not that she's so old that it's an unusual thing yet. She's about to continue when Jackson finally notices her… and then proceeds to make a huge mess. Daisy grimaces and automatically reaches over to steal a whole wad of bar napkins, that big family experience coming in handy. "A beer's fine, thanks. Sorry, I just - Duty calls." She gives a rueful shrug, before turning to offer the napkins to Jackson.
Francis spreads his free hand. "Sorry. Paranoid - I'm not so good a judge of age as I like to think," he notes, wryly, before finally picking up on Nadira's question. "Hey, lady," he says, pitching his voice to carry. "It's not far. Right outta the parking lot, three lights down, right again on Pasadena, it's about half a mile to the onramp." To Daisy he wonders,wryly, "A highly paid nannying job, huh?"
Nadira was trying to follow Miles' directions, but gives up when Francis shouts something she can actually remember. "Thanks," she yells back, "can I get you a drink?"
Jackson doesn't even get the nanny comment, since he's too busy doing a bit of celebration with those that are also rooting for his team. The pitcher is set down on the counter and a quick, "Get that for me, will ya', D.G.? Thanks!" Before he's spinning around and slapping high fives with a couple others in the bar! "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Did you see that?!" And all of them respond and look back at the television for the instant replay. "OOOOOOH! SO SMOOTH! We back in this!" Oh Jackson.
Daisy just flashes a grin to Frank's apology, really not seeming offended in the least. Tucking her hair back behind her ears, she's already busy mopping up the spilled beer, using up the napkins quickly and then getting the bartender to toss her a rag, ducking the high-fiving as necessary in order to get at the mess. She does catch the wry comment about babysitting and looks back over with a crooked grin and a shrug. "A high paying job I need, that's all I know," she replies quietly, after casting a quick look over her shoulder to see Jackson is busy making a fool of himself over some sporting event and won't overhear. With that, she drops into a crouch, intending to mop up the area where it spilled on the floor, but she reconsiders after seeing the pre-existing condition of the floors.
"Point. I'm willing to bet you make more than I do," Frank comments, with only the barest touch of sourness. And then Nadira's subjected to the full force of his grin. "For me?" he says, in mock surprise. "Sure. Jack and coke."
Nadira calls the order over to the bartender and settles in to wait for it. As for Frank's grin, she smiles back. It's a nice smile.
There's not much else going on in the World of Jackson, because he's a sports fan and when his team is trying to mount a come back, he's pretty much forgotten about his real fake life. It's kind of a complicatedly simple process, but the fact of the matter is that it happens and that's all there is to know about it. He doesn't even notice Daisy going the extra mile to clean up his mess, as he just takes a seat at the bar and stares at the screens.
"Well, that's not right," Daisy agrees to Frank's comment as she uses the edge of the bar to pull herself back upright. Jackson gets a glance, but since he seems to have gone bye-bye, she just takes it upon herself to order him up another pitcher, while handing back to rag and thanking the bartender and apologizing for the disruption way more profusely than necessary in a place like this. She hasn't entirely missed the interchange between Francis and Nadira, and flashes the other woman a little grin while reclaiming a stool at the bar, wiping her hands off on a fresh napkin. "Sorry about that," she apologizes to Frank.
"No trouble," Frank says, simply. "You're a lucky man," he comments to Jackson, though without any apparent expectation of actually being heard. "So. This is the day when pretty young women get lost and wander into this dive of a bar?" he suggests, glancing between Nadira and Daisy, as if they might actually have an answer.
Nadira replies, "I suppose so," as she pays the bartender for the Jack and Coke. "I was out looking into places to work and live and just got horrendously lost. May the universe repay your kindness to a stranger tenfold."
