In the spirit of keeping this little collection "updated" here's more tumblr writing :)

Summary: Sutton finds a new restaurant, and can't imagine why the owner isn't concerned about garnering new customers. Perhaps some people are just a little strange.

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Sutton hadn't been inside the new local Irish restaurant since it opened. She hadn't seen many people in it, actually, which she thought was a shame. Restaurants were a difficult venture with most failing, and she thought it would be too bad if this one failed so soon after opening its doors. Especially since it had a little sign in the window proclaiming they carried authentic dishes. She could only assume it was an individual, or family, who immigrated over or wanted to pay respect to their roots.

So she stopped inside one weekend for lunch just to try it out.

If she hadn't seen the open sign and the door been unlocked, she might have thought it was closed. There were no patrons, and no one even at the front counter to greet customers. She peered around and cleared her throat as she made her way to the front of the establishment and took a look at their menu board. It only had a few dishes listed, but she assumed they probably had to start small. It would keep initial food costs low that way.

One of the items was a stew and it sounded good enough to try. The weather was starting to turn cold and her walk down gave her a chance to feel it. With a side of bread it would be the perfect way to warm back up.

If only there was someone to take her order.

Sutton cleared her throat again and tried to peer into the kitchen.

"Excuse me?" She called.

Something fell in the kitchen followed by a muffled curse and Sutton pulled her wallet out of her bag in preparation. A man came through the kitchen door and blinked at her in obvious surprise. Sutton gave him a friendly smile.

"Hi," she said with a small wave. "I'm just here to order. I mean, obviously; why else would someone be here? Sorry if you were, you know, busy with something."

The man was tall and broad and he looked more like someone who would lift heavy weights than pots and pans. His blond hair was pressed against his forehead under a flat cap, which was very vintage of him, and he wore a thick knit sweater. Some might say he looked like an old Irish grandpa, but Sutton thought he looked more classic than dated. He at least wore it well.

He pulled off the cap and ran his hand through his hair as he continued to process her presence.

"Right, o' course," he said. His voice held a slight accent. Perhaps he really had immigrated then, or his parents had. "Food?" He questioned. Sutton laughed at his joke.

"Preferably," she said. "Unless you have some secret menu I don't know about."

"No," he said quickly. "No. Just food." He cleared his throat. "So what can I get you then?"

"A bowl of the stew, please. And a coffee with cream, if you have it."

"To-go?"

"Ah, no. I'll take it here."

He made a face at that and Sutton wondered if she'd caught them near some unexpected closing time. But he didn't bring it up, and she didn't want to take good food home just to microwave it anyway.

"Right then," he said. "I'll get to it."

He moved away from the counter and Sutton waved her wallet.

"Shouldn't I pay you first?"

"Right!" He whipped back around and stared at the till. There weren't prices on the menu board and he seemed to be thinking. She thought pricing your meals probably should be something one did long before opening. Maybe he was a new hire.

"Five 'll do it," he decided. Sutton tilted her head.

"Five dollars?" She parroted. "For a whole bowl and a coffee?"

"Six," he amended.

It was still rather cheap. They really were going to go out of business with those kinds of prices. But Sutton decided not to correct someone on their business on her first visit.

She handed him a ten and told him to keep the change. The man made another strange face and shoved the bill in his pocket.

"Please, have a seat. I'll be right out with it."

He disappeared back behind the kitchen door and Sutton heard him suddenly yelling in what she assumed was Gaelic. It sounded like several wooden chairs went screeching across the floor, and there was some sort of hurried scurrying. Sutton sat at a table along the wall and pulled out her phone to scroll while she waited.

The man came out a few minutes later with two mugs, a pot of coffee, and a small plate with creamer cups. She stared in surprise as he sat down across from her and poured them both a cup.

"Refills are free," he told her. "My apologies, the stew will be a few minutes. We're, ah, still trainin' some of the kitchen staff."

"Um. That's no problem," Sutton said as she plucked two of the creamers off the plate and dumped them in her mug. "Do you- do you not need to go train them now?"

The man grinned at her and Sutton ducked down as she stirred her coffee.

"I gave them clear instructions. And I didn't feel right leaving a lady out here to wait alone."

Sutton flushed and took a sip of her coffee to stall. She'd never had restaurant staff sit and chat with her before. She wondered if that was more of a normal thing in Ireland. Or, well, she didn't know he moved from Europe. She supposed he could just be from around New York or something. Maybe that's just how they conducted themselves in the boroughs.

"Well, thanks?" She managed to say. She put her mug on the table and held out her hand. "I'm Sutton."

The man took her hand and shook it.

"Steve."

Sutton gave him another friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you."

"And you."

Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, no cream, sat back, and looked at her over the rim of his mug while he took a drink.

"So what brought you in here?" He asked casually. "You just like a good stew?"

"I like to try new places." Sutton said with a shrug. "And I noticed you guys opened up recently. I haven't had authentic Irish cuisine before, and I thought today was a good day to try."

"Did ya?" Steve took another sip from his mug.

"You know, you'd probably get more people in here if you advertised at all." He shot her a look between perplexed and incredulous, and Sutton hurried to soften any insult. "I mean, you guys are kind of out of the way and I haven't seen any flyers up on the street. I'm not even sure when your grand opening was. I bet if you even just started an Instagram page, you could have more people stopping by. Really lean into the authentic aspect, you know? People are into that nowadays."

"I don't like social media." Steve said in a bored tone. Like the potential fate of his restaurant didn't concern him in the slightest. "If people want to come in, they'll come in."

Sutton scoffed and spread her hands out, palms up, over the table in dismay.

"But people have to know you're here to decide that!"

"We get enough business."

Sutton looked around the space in a dramatic show before gesturing to herself.

"It's lunchtime and I'm the only one in here."

But Steve just smirked.

"Like I said. We get enough."

Sutton rolled her eyes and huffed before turning back to her coffee.

"Well, I guess you can run your business however you like," she said. "But if you ever decide you'd like some help, I'm not too bad with hashtags. And I have one friend in graphic design who can make a killer flyer."

"I'll keep it in mind," Steve said with a scrunch of his nose which told Sutton that he intended to never consider the offer again. He stared at her a moment, almost evaluating, and Sutton fiddled with her phone. "You're very keen to help without even knowing if the food is good."

She shrugged one shoulder.

"I like helping. And owning your own restaurant always sounded like a cool job to me. It'd be a shame if no one even knew to give this place a chance. We need less chain fast food places."

Steve watched her as she spoke and continued to do so after she'd stopped. Sutton couldn't maintain that long of eye contact. He looked away after she did and let out a soft laugh as he raised his mug back up to his lips and took another drink.

"You're really here to try out the food." He said it like a statement but Sutton took it as an odd question.

"If I can get my order," she said with humor. She gave Steve a cheeky smile. "You'd think dishing up a bowl wouldn't take too long. What? Were they starting it from scratch?"

Steve let out a bark of a laugh.

"Well it's hard to find good help."

He continued to chat with her while she waited for her meal, and he appeared to grow more relaxed the longer they spoke. She told him a bit about her job when he asked, but it was rather dull administrative work that she didn't want to think about on her day off. Steve was more than charming, and the accent caught Sutton off guard enough that she shared a tad bit more than she usually would with a stranger. Nothing that she thought was too identifying, but normally she probably wouldn't have told a strange man anything at all.

Steve didn't say too much in return. Just reiterated that he owned the restaurant and side-stepped around sharing about his own personal experiences. Eventually the kitchen door opened and another large man with a scar along his face poked his head out to shoot off something in Gaelic. Steve pushed back his chair and stood with a grumble.

"Excuse me, Miss Sutton," he said. "I'll be right back with your strew." He got up and muttered something that sounded like 'useless' under his breath as he left.

Sutton poured herself another cup of coffee and tugged on a stray curl.

"Miss Sutton," she murmured to herself, then grinned.

Steve came back nearly twenty minutes later with a steaming bowl of stew and a thick slice of dark rye bread, healthily buttered. It smelled divine. This time he didn't stay while she ate, only spared her a funny little smile before he retreated back to be with his employees.

Sutton made sure to take a picture of the bowl before she started eating. The meal was just as good as it smelled. So good, Sutton found herself wondering why the place didn't have more customers just from word of mouth. It was robbery that she only paid six dollars for it.

She soaked up the last of the juice in her bowl with a chunk of bread and popped the final bite in her mouth to savor. A happy hum escaped her as she chewed.

It was official. She'd definitely be coming back to try their other dishes. Steve reemerged as she slid into her jacket; she shot him a wide grin and a thumbs up.

"It's delicious," she proclaimed.

Steve looked chuffed.

"Glad to hear it. Then you won't mind takin' some leftover."

He held out a large to-go cup and a smaller box with what she assumed was the bread. Her brow furrowed and she held up a hand as she took a step back.

"I can't take that. I only paid for one bowl."

"We have to close up early today," he explained. "And we can't keep all of it. You don't take it, we'll just have to throw it out."

That changed Sutton's confusion to insult and she grabbed the to-go containers from him.

"You can't throw this out! It's better than any soup my mom ever made!"

"Hey now, you can't say that about your ma."

Sutton expression shifted to a crooked grin.

"My mom has only ever made Campbell's."

Steve put his hands on his hips and rolled his jaw in an exaggeratedly amused irritation. Sutton held up her spoils and then tucked them against her chest.

"I'll accept these this time," she said. "I'll just have to leave a bigger tip next visit to make up for it."

"No need."

Sutton huffed.

"Well I took a picture of it before I devoured it. I can post it on my instagram and see if it gets you a couple more customers."

"Wish you wouldn't," Steve responded blithely. "There's no good in any of those socials."

"Nothing but new customers," Sutton said dryly. "But fine, Mr. Old School. I'll have to keep you all afloat myself, because I can't go back to normal bread after this."

"I'll put a bell on the door so you don't sneak up on me again."

Sutton moved toward the exit and rolled her eyes.

"Try flipping the sign over to 'closed' if you don't want to provide the services you offer." She pushed the door open with her back and shot Steve one more parting smile.

"I wish your endeavors well! At least try to stay running."

Steve watched from where he stood and gave her a parting wave.

"Oh," he said, "I don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon."