Karkat P.O.V. (again)
"And where do you think you're going? You're not driving after drinking and like hell I'd be able to finish all this food by myself. Sit your ass down kitkat and settle in for a while. We're not even close to being done here." I paused for a moment. Normally there was no way in hell that anyone was going to get away with talking to me like that, but for some reason in that moment it didn't bother me as much.
"And if I don't?" I asked, turning on my heel and smirking at him. Essentially I was giving him a hard time about it.
"Then, well. I mean. I guess, nothing. You've got your own free will and I'd be a real dick if I forced you to stick around. But it'd be really awesome if you did stay." He seemed embarrassed in the slightest but I liked his phrasing. Smart boy.
"Respectful. Good answer. Alright, I'll hang out for a while longer. It's not like I've got anywhere to fucking be." I sighed, sitting right back down.
"Thanks. And uh, sorry."
"Don't be. It's fine. We're on the same page now, right?"
"Definitely." And he seemed just as relieved as I was.
"Good. So, your turn to ask me. We've still got like 15 questions to go or some shit." I teased.
"Right. Um, What do you like to do for fun?"
"Not much, if I'm honest. I'm always too goddamn busy with work. But I do like movies and books. I used to try and fuck around with programming computers, but I was so god awful at it. I'm sure there's other shit I'd like to do but I never have the time." I conceded, being painfully obvious.
"That's a damn shame to have a list that short. We should expand it some time."
"Alright Mr. Life-of-the-party. What do you like to do for fun then?"
"Well let's see. I already told you about the Dj-ing and being a hella rad disc jockey. I also draw from time to time. I can skateboard, and it's usually how I get around when my bro isn't nice enough to drive me places. Because fuck cars and their expensive ass auto-market. I like making fucking hilariously shitty comics and posting them on the internet. I've got a pretty decent singing voice and do karaoke when drunk enough. There's probably more but none I can think of off the top of my head."
"I concede, that is a goddamn litany of a list."
"Alright, my turn again then." He picked up his cider and drank some more before asking. "What is your favorite color?"
"...I don't have one."
"What do you mean you don't have one? Everyone has a favorite color."
"Not me." I shrugged.
"Dude. Really? Here, just. If you had to pick a color to wear what's your go-to color?"
"Black, probably. It matches with literally fucking everything."
"Christ that's so fucking practical."
"And? Is there something wrong with practical?" I asked, turning a little more towards him and raising an eyebrow.
"No. Shit. I just mean like. Dude everyone has a favorite color."
"I just don't care to think about simple shit like that. Colors are just colors, it's not that fucking important to pick a favorite in my opinion."
"Ok, well mine's red, just for future reference. Can I ask a new question since that one tanked?" He was like half done with his food now.
"No. That's not how the goddamn game works. It's my turn." I said while reaching for a fried shrimp from the sampler platter and dipping it in some ranch.
"Alright then. Ask away."
I thought it over while I finished chewing. "Hm, alright. What's your favorite type of music?"
"You did not just ask an aspiring musician what type of music is their favorite. Do you know what the fuck kind of ramble you are going to start right now? Strap in for the long haul boys, we're going to be here all night."
"Just give me a fucking answer, asshole." I sighed, rolling my eyes.
"Ok, alright. Let me break it down into categories for you. And this literally might take a while. As far as music that I like to produce, currently we're on a pretty legit setlist of dance/edm with the occasional dubstep. I like remixing indie songs and pop songs and my bro throws some shit in there that mashes pretty well from his preferences. It's like if you take the movie pitch perfect, take out all the acapella shit, change the movie lead to a dude and literally stop watching about thirty minutes in. Basically it's a dude with hella skills to find songs that pair well together. That's my bro in a nutshell and he's super fucking great at creating good setlists. He gets the tech shit and synching beats, basically all the beforehand planning. But as far as performing it, he's not that spontaneous. That's where I come in. In the moment of the song I can improv like no other and it usually goes so goddamn well that no one could tell it's improv. They think it's like a recorded mix or some shit. It's fucking amazing. I'd invite you to come check it out sometime, but it's totally up to you and I totally don't want to make you feel obligated or anything." He took a pause to take a sip from his cider again. "Then as far as music I like to listen to, that varies. Pretty much anything but country music, rap, and jazz. I also am not a huge fan of classical but it's essentially the building blocks for all modern music so I can't judge much there. To go into detail, some bands I'm into right now include but of course aren't limited to: The White Stripes, Daft Punk, Fall Out Boy, Panic at the Disco, The Chainsmokers, Coldplay, Anarbor, and Watsky. That's just the recent stuff. Most of it is trending right now anyway so it shouldn't all be completely foreign if you have a working radio and tune in to the pop stations. And that's pretty much my music tastes in a summary."
"A summary? If that was a summary then you could write a fucking book just on your own personal music interests. Holy shit." I mentally noted to bring up topics that would get him rambling. It was so fucking nice to hear someone talk about something they're really passionate about. And the way he got into his shit was honestly kind of attractive. But this was still definitely not a date.
"Well I could go on, but I really don't want to bore you with exact details and a comprehensive list of every single band that I enjoy. That might take us a literal week." He said, giving what could only be described as a lazy grin. "So what kind of beats do you listen to?"
"Most of the same stuff as you honestly. I uh, don't really know how to describe my fucking music taste. Unless my friends telling me I only listen to slow depressing shit counts? I dunno. I like upbeat music but sometimes it's just too fucking loud or the beat is just too goddamn fast for me to really get into it."
"Slow jams, not bad, not bad. Mind giving me a top ten list of your favorite bands at the moment? Or just as many as you can think of if ten is hard to come by." Dave propped his elbow on the table and held his jaw in his hand. You know, that pose that teenagers do when they're bored. But the way he turned towards me when he did it showed his interest more than it did boredom. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through my artists to see if I could come up with something.
"Hmm, ok. Cigarettes after Sex, Halsey, um Florence and the Machine, …. In Love with a Ghost, Gorillaz,... Imaginary Future, Galimatias and Alina Baraz. Stuff like that, if you know any of it." I looked up at the blonde and put my phone away. He seemed to be nodding in approval.
"Like I said, not bad. I was expecting some Amy Winehouse or Alanis Morissette shit to be quite honest. So all in all, an improvement upon expectation."
"Thanks." I decided to finish off my own drink now for the sake of cooling my awkwardness. Because holy fuck did I not know how to make normal conversation. Fuck if I knew anything about being social outside of work or the internet or the small group of friends I'd made at work. Maybe my douche co-workers were onto something when they suggested I expand my friend circle.
"Your turn to ask a question." Dave mused, clearly catching me zoning out for a second.
"Oh, right. Fuck... So what exactly is your sexuality anyway? Like gay, bi or pan or something?"
"Jumping right to serious questions I see." He raised an eyebrow at me.
"No. Fuck. It's not fucking like that. I just wanted to know because you were the one hitting on me. I don't want to go around assuming shit." I waved my hands as if it would help convey what I was trying to say here, though obviously it wasn't much help.
"Chill kitkat. I was just yanking your chain. I just don't usually put a label to it. Or if I do, I just use 'queer' or 'gay' since they're basically umbrella terms. I know what the rest mean, I just don't feel like explaining them to other people."
"Well as someone who knows what the fuck the actual terms mean, you don't have to use umbrella terms with me. You could just give me an answer instead of being a goddamn cryptid about it."
"That's true. I guess technically it'd fall somewhere in the pansexual range? I have a slight preference for men but I've had crushes on women before too. So it's kinda whatever. As long as I like the person and they like me I don't really care what they've got downstairs." The gleam in his eye when he fucking said that was like a scene in a movie. How charming he made it sound. "What about you?" He countered, pulling me out of my thought.
"I'm literally just fucking gay. Girls never really got my attention or got me going. I tried it once, just because literally fucking everyone was saying shit like you never know until you try both. So I did. It didn't go well. We're still friends but it was a weird point in my life. Moral of the story is that I like guys and I should fucking stick to what I know without having to try just out of peer pressure."
"Good to know that my chances just got a little higher." He grinned.I elbowed him in the arm for that comment.
"I'm not fucking easy you asswipe. I still have to like you enough to want to fucking date you. Don't blow your chances before you even get an actual fucking date."
"Oh? So this far I haven't been blowing it. Even more good news." Dave chuckled, his smile throwing me off for a second because it was so natural and relaxed and fucking attractive. My cheeks heated a little at the sight of someone smiling like that at me. That shit never happened. That shit wasn't supposed to happen. Not to me at least.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. This is pretty nice." I grumbled. "Don't take that the wrong way either. It's not a fucking invitation for you to keep being a smartass."
"I don't need an invitation to be a smartass, it's in my blood."
I stared at him for a second in silence, trying to comprehend the level of stupidity this conversation had stooped to. "Who's fucking turn is it to ask a question now anyway?"
"I have no goddamn clue to be completely honest. But we've practically finished all our food in the process. So if you've got places to be, you can totally head out now…. Or we can keep hanging here until Dirk is off the phone. It's totally up to you."
"Well I think I'm still just a little bit too fucking buzzed to drive completely safely so let's give it another half hour before we let me drive my ass anywhere."
"Cool. So you wanna stay here or maybe split and walk around some? There's still some daylight left being it's only …" Dave went to check his invisible wrist watch only to find it's fuckin invisible. So he pulled out his phone instead. "It's only like 5."
"So the sun is currently setting? It's fucking fall Dave. The sun fucking sets literally around 5 pm."
"Shush it'll be fine. It won't be pitch black out for another hour at the very least."
"You really wanna go walking around town with me while I'm dressed up like a goddamn rich prick who lost his suit jacket?" I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.
"Dude. I don't care what you're wearing. I'm more than happy to be seen in public with a guy like you. Don't give yourself so little credit." Another compliment from someone who I never expected a compliment from. I was starting to actually think that maybe he genuinely liked me.
"What about your check? Isn't your brother, who's outside right now, supposed to cover this shit?" It may have seemed like I was stalling. Probably because I was. Don't ask me why though.
"Oh shit, that's right. Well he did leave some cash on the table." Dave picked up the bills and counted it out. "How much was the check?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Meenah made off with my apron and all of its contents."
"Shit. Ok. You go get the check from her and I'll sort it out for his lazy ass."
I nodded and went to chase down my manager, wherever the fuck she wound up. I found her counting out the tips from my apron in her office.
"What the actual fuck are you even doing?"
"Sup karks. Just observin' how well the people like you. Considerin' givin you employee of the month for this shit. How in the halibut do ya rack up almost $400 in tips in just one day?"
"I'm good at what I do? I don't fucking know. It pays the bills and that's all I'm concerned about. So could you be a nice person and exchange it for larger bills that I can actually fit in my pocket? Or at least give me my apron back so I can carry all this shit in it?" Lazy motherfucker. She tossed my my empty apron and left the task of putting everything back up to me. I sighed and simply started shoving it all in there willy nilly.
"You're so adorabubble when you're pissed. Ya know that?"
"So like all the time?" I asked, rolling my eyes for probably the millionth time that day. "Also where the fuck are all the checks that I still needed to pass back to my tables?"
"I gave 'em to Cro a course. He is takin over those tables for ya, y'know. He needs ta know what the fuck he's handlin."
"Oh my fucking gods. So you mean I have to go hunt down his annoying ass in order to get Dave's check?" I groaned.
"So his name is Dave eh? Woulda guessed somethin a lil classier but it's still fittin somehow."
"Can we talk about how fitting his name is at another time? Where the fuck is the check for his table? Do I need to go clock back in just to reprint it?"
"Clam it Kat. I may or may not have it in here cause i knew you'd come lookin for it and aint nobody wanna deal with Cro while he's workin. Dude's impossible while on the clock." She beamed, looking like she was just so fucking proud of herself. Like she really pulled the wool over my eyes on this one. As if it was so fucking obvious somehow. She was such a fucking weird manager.
"Ok. Can I have it then?"
"Fine. But if y'all are leavin together you know I wanna hear all the dirty details next time I see ya."
"Yeah, yeah whatever." I huffed. She handed me the ticket and I was out of there faster than I'd ever been, coat in hand and everything. In retrospect I have no fucking clue why I was rushing though. I went back to the table and dropped the slip of paper face down in front of Dave.
"Alright, what's the damage?" He said while lifting the paper slightly so only he could see it. He stared at it for a long moment, seeming confused.
"Again, do you not know how to fucking read? Even numbers? Is something not adding up here, asswipe?"
"Uh, yeah. How the fuck is the check 0?"
"What?" I asked, sitting back down next to him so I could get a good look at it. It did in fact say that the check was already paid for. At the bottom of the receipt was a little stamp of a clamshell that could only mean that Meenah paid for it. Their whole fucking dinner was on the house? What kind of bullshit was going on around here? Since when did she ever do that shit? I groaned and buried my head in my arms on the table as I remembered the last time she did this shit. "My manager fucking paid your bill."
"Seriously? That's hella sweet of her. Shit. I wish I worked here if she's that fucking nice." Dave beamed.
"She's not that fucking nice. Trust me. You'll probably wind up owing her something."
"Dude. Isn't that like fucking illegal or something? To give someone free food in exchange for a favor?"
"I don't know. All I know is that she did the same thing the last time a customer had an interest in me. Then when I found out he only wanted to hook up and practically tried to force me into it, she fucking hunted him down. I don't exactly know what she did. All I know is that he's banned from the place and that she told me she 'got her money back' from him."
"Karkat what kind of mafia boss are you fucking working for?" He finished off his cider and set the glass to the side.
"Fuck if I know. As long as I get paid I don't care what she does. I can't get in trouble as long as I claim my tips for taxes." I shrugged.
"Ok, well um. Speaking of, I guess we should tip you since we didn't have to cover the bill." He started thumbing through the bills he had in his hand.
"You really don't have to do that." God this was going to be awkward. How do you go about accepting a tip from someone in this situation? Is that even allowed? It shouldn't be. It felt weird.
"Shush. You were our server for the majority of the night. You still get a tip." He tried to hand me a $20 and I refused, keeping my hands as far away as possible from the offered cash.
"Your bill wasn't near high enough to warrant that much of a goddamn tip, keep it."
"Ok, well looking at the total here and suggested tips by percentage, you at least earned a $10 tip. So just take it dude."
"I'm not going to take your fucking money, asswipe. Keep it."
"Are you really going to be this fucking difficult?" Dave sighed.
"Yes." I deadpanned. Absolutely serious about this. He moved like he was going to get up so I went ahead and scooted out of the booth so that he could.
"Ok. Fine. At least let me buy you coffee this week or something? I need to feel like we're even somehow." He lead me out of the building, of course not without some of my coworkers hollering or whistling in our direction. Bunch of fucking stupid pigs.
"I don't drink coffee." It should have been a simple statement, but apparently it was the most shocking thing in the world.
"You what?" His eyes seemed much more wide open now.
"You heard what I fucking said."
"I know. I'm just trying to fathom how the hell someone can survive without coffee."
"Sweet tooth, remember?"
"Coffee can be sweet. It doesn't have to be totally fucking bitter." He held the door for me and I walked through, leading us outside.
"Well I've never had any that wasn't completely disgusting."
"Have you ever even been to a starbucks?"
"No."
He put his hand on his chest pretending like he was in pain. "I'm shot. Wounded. Call a medic. This cannot be happening. All because Kitkat here has never been to starbucks."
"It's not that big of a deal." I sighed, looking the other way because he was making what would've been a scene if there were people around to see it. Though we were in the parking lot so anyone looking out the windows of the restaurant would be able to spot us from their seats. Great. Fucking great.
"Not that big of a deal? This is huge! It's fucking blasphemy! It's an outrage dammit and I will not stand for it! When are you free next? I'm treating you to starbucks and you're going to fucking love it." He turned to me and grabbed my hands in his as if we were getting married or some fucking crap. I pulled my hands back and groaned internally. Then I slipped my coat on because it was fucking cold outside.
"I cannot believe I'm about to fucking agree to this shit. I don't have work on Wednesday or Friday this week."
"Friday sounds good. Are you free all day or do you have shit to do?"
"I don't wake up any earlier than 9am on my days off. Otherwise, no I don't have shit to do."
"Sweet. 10 sound good then?"
"Yeah. That's fine."
"Nice."
We stood there for a moment in silence, just sort of looking around. Then something clicked and I became kind of concerned. "So where the fuck is your brother anyway?"
"Shit. I almost completely forgot about him." Dave facepalmed.
"Good job idiot."
"Shut up. You're distracting."
"And you're still buzzed." I pointed out.
"That makes two of us." He quipped back.
"Fuck you."
Dave scanned the parking lot for a moment before cussing under his breath. "I think he took off without me. Let me call him." I nodded in agreement. The phone rang all the way through to voicemail twice before the asshole finally picked up. Dave put his phone on speaker.
"Jesus fuck Dave, what the hell do you want? I'm in the middle of an important call."
"Where are you? Did you leave without me? What the fuck man?"
"I'm down the block, stop freaking out like a lost kid at the grocery store.I'll be back over in less than two minutes. Don't piss your pants in the meantime." I laughed at that and Dave shot me a glare as if he was offended. "Am I on speaker right now?"
"Maybe….. Ok. Yes."
"I'd like to apologize to all present parties for the idiocy that is my brother." And I fucking died. I started laughing like a maniac. "Is that the waiter?"
"... Yes." Dave admitted.
"I like him. He fucking appreciates my jokes. You really know how to pick 'em Dave."
"Shut the fuck up. It's not like that." The younger blond defended.
"It's really not like that." I said, just a beat behind him.
"Whatever you say." Then he hung up. A moment later he was walking up to our buzzed asses in the middle of the parking lot.
"Long time no see." I teased.
"Hilarious." Dave rolled his eyes at me.
"You guys paid the bill, right?" The first words out of Dirk's mouth. Ever so responsible.
"The owner paid it." Dave then proceeded to hand the cash back to Dirk.
"Wait seriously? Why?" The taller blond asked.
"Long story short, she's fucking obsessed with me. So because your brother here was hitting on me and she encourages that shit, she paid your bill."
"That still makes no sense." Dirk pointed out.
"I know. She never makes any fucking sense."
"Just roll with it bro. Free food." Dave whispered.
"Hey I'm not complaining." Dirk put his hands up in a surrender. "So what's the gameplan now?"
"Well you two fucks can do whatever you want but I'm probably going to wait around a little longer and let my buzz die off completely. I'm not driving until I'm 100% damn sure I can focus on a straight line."
"Dave, you wanna hang out with your friend here or head to the club to start setting up? It's up to you." Way to pretend like I'm not even fucking here.
"Shit man, don't make me choose. That's fucking awkward." Dave complained.
"Ok, well do you want me to choose for you? Because you know damn well that I don't need any help setting up. So it's not like you'd be doing much of anything if you came with me." Dirk crossed his arms in front of his chest, clearly getting impatient to get going.
"I dunno man. This whole conversation is getting weird." Dave looked very uncomfortable.
I decided to cut in and save his ass. "Look, you've got my number. Just go do your shit and if you get too fucking bored you can text me or something I guess. It's not a big deal. And we're not in fucking junior high. No need to act like I'm your homecoming date or some shit. I won't be offended if you've gotta go somewhere. We're all adults here, or did you fucking forget that?"
"Fuck you for insinuating that I'm not acting my age." He retorted.
"Real mature, asswipe."
"Whatever. Fine. Yeah, let's go. I'll see you Friday, Kitkat."
"Stop calling me Kitkat, you fuck... Also text me the details of where exactly you wanna meet up. If you don't, I won't bother showing." I grumbled. Dirk started to walk away, probably back to their car. Dave turned and winked at me one last time. I let out a huff and rolled my eyes again. I needed a smoke break right the fuck now.
Back in the safety of my car, my apron and shit in the passenger seat now, I lit my cigarette and started to think over just what the fuck was wrong with me. Why had I agreed to any of that shit today? Since when did I ever converse with strangers, let alone let them have my number? I didn't have time for new friends or even dating. I didn't have the patience for it either. What the actual hell did I just sign myself up for? This was like the worst case of auto-piloting I'd ever experienced in my life. I was completely fucking screwed into this shit now and as always it was my own fucking fault.
