2007-02-17: A Doctor, a Bartender, and Some Hot Wings

Starring:

Samantha_icon.gif Ianto_icon.gif

Summary: What started as a stood-up date formed into a chit-chat between two strangers.

Date It Happened: February 17th, 2007

A Doctor, a Bartender, and Some Hot Wings


Oldcastle Pub and Restaurant

Samantha has the misfortune of having a yenta for a mother. Why aren't you married yet, Sam? Aren't you going to give me grandchildren? If you don't get on with things, I won't see them before I die. It's charming little bits such as this that more or less guilt Samantha into going on these blind dates that her mother set up. This one? Is a lawyer. Or a podiatrist. Whatever conveniently files in her mom's book as "nice Jewish boy of the week". After a while, Sam loses track. The point is, she's here at the arranged meeting place and time for the date. She's dressed down a bit; sweaters and jeans, perched at the bar and eyeing her watch in annoyance. He's late. Twenty minutes so far, and Sam's about to say screw it and order something a bit more fierce than a club soda as she's perched at the bar.

It isn't but a moment later that Sam is greeted by a bartender. This one would happen to be Ianto.
"Good evening, miss!" he says to Sam with a small grin on his face. "What would you like?" His accent makes it clear he isn't from the these parts.

Samantha on the other hand, speaks like a princess from Queens, which - oh hey, coincidentally, she is a princess from Queens. Perching on the bar stool, she flashes another annoyed look at the door and then smiles at the bartender - no need to be unpleasant to the guy just because her date stood her up. "How about a cosmo, honey?"

"Right." Ianto quickly gets to work, mixing the Cosmopolitan. While he does, he thinks to himself about that look Samantha gave toward the door and to her watch a second ago. Still, it doesn't take him very long to have one served up.
He gently places the beverage before Sam. "There you go!" Then, he glances to the door, just as other patrons walk in to take a table. "You're waiting for someone, then?" he asks, turning to Sam curiously. It's a little redundant, but we shouldn't assume things, afterall.

"Was." Sam curls her fingers gently around the glass, taking a sip and nodding her approval at his mix. "It's just as well, podiatry is boring anyway." Huh? "Sorry, I'm in a bit of a 'men are jerks' mode right now, present company of bartenders who give me alcohol excepted."

Ianto can't help but smile a bit at her last statement. "Thanks." He glances to the door again. "Sorry it didn't work out," he offers a little empathically. He adds with a slight raise of encouragement, "If you want a silver lining, it's good this happened right away and not months from now when you're more involved."

Ianto smiles. "That's the spirit, then!"
Then the Welshman nods. "We do. Mild or hot? And, um…" He thinks for a second. "… Oh, yes. Ranch or blue cheese dressing?"

"Blue cheese, especially if it's chunky. And hot. Nuclear in fact, if you got it." Sam beams at him and can't help asking, "Where you from, honey? Cause that accent sure ain't London and it sure ain't Dublin, either."

Ianto writes the order down on a small note pad, then he looks to Samantha and grins. "I'm from Cardiff in Wales," he answers. "I came to New York just over a year ago." Then, he points his index finder up in gesture. "Let me take your order to the kitchen, and when I get back, you can tell me where you're from, all right?" But, before Sam can answer, he walks to the door on the other end of the bar, disappears back there for a few seconds, then he returns. "It will be just a few moments," he tells Sam with a smile. "Where are you from, then?"

"I came to start a new life, really," Ianto explains. "I'm no actor. I am a pianist, but so far, I am simply a bartender."
Then he leans on the bar a little. "What is it you do for a living?"

"Ahh, a musician." Sam nods to herself. "Well, most people don't wake up and say 'hmm, I think I'll move to another country today.'" she teases. "So what made you think you'd have better luck here then in Cardiff?" With a vague wave of her hand, "I work in the ER over at Mount Sinai."

At that question, Ianto casts his eyes aside, his smile waning a little. "It's a little complicated," he says with some reluctance. "Besides," he starts in a quick change of pace to the topic. "The taxes are less and the weather is nicer here." That said with a nod.
"I'm curious as to why they would send someone who works in an ER orverseas. Are you a doctor?" he asks with a raised brow.

"Oooh, I see!" Ianto replies, smile recovering. "That's very interesting! It sounds like a good cause and all! Nice!"%rThen, Ianto checks the clock and nods. "Pardon me. Your wings should be done." He points to the drink. "Another?"

"It's difficult work at times, but quite rewarding. Helps me remind myself things can be a lot worse when I've had a rough day at the hospital." His appellations are received with a mild smile. "Be a sweetheart and switch me out to Harp, honey." Sam says. "And yeah, if my wings are up, that'll be great."

Ianto nods, then fetches her a bottle of Harp from one of the small refridgerators, sets it on the bar, then tells her, "I will be right back."
The bartender disappears into the kitchen, and moment later he comes out with a plate holding a bowl of six hot wings, and a small bowl with blue chees dressing. There is also a celery stalk on the side. He sets that next to Samantha's beer. "There we are!" he presents with a chipper tone. "And I can imagine working in a hospital can be very taxing. Especially with crises such as the that coffee shop. I hope not too many got hurt in that."

"I just caught it on the news between the sets of the band who played here earlier," Ianto says, his eyes wandering toward the TV (which, is showing a soccer match at the moment). "Something about a van crashing into the Common Grounds coffee house." His hands begin to mildy gesture as he explains what he saw on the news. "Appearantly the van had some paintings in it by a deceased artist." His eyes narrow in recollection as he looks back to Sam. "Some bloke named Isaac Mendez. Have you heard of him?"

Samantha shakes her head. "Can't say that I have." she admits. "But I'm not really a visual arts kind of person. Music and theater are more my type of genres to enjoy. Was all the artwork destroyed, then? That's sad."

Ianto nods. "Yes, it is. Though, I don't think all the paintings were destroyed," Ianto comments, crossing his arms. "They mentioned some of the items may have been stolen, so it's possible at least a few are out there, floating about the city." With a shrug, he asks as he motions to Sam's meal, "How is everything?"

"Hot!" Sam says again, wiping at her mouth. "But good. I expected this place to be all shepherd's pie and yorkshire pudding or some such. But the bar food's pretty decent if this is an example."

With a chuckle, Ianto confirms, "We have those, too. Actually, the Irish stew here is rather good! And the shepard's pie is quite nice, as well! Glad you're enjoying it." With that, he goes to collect a few used pint glasses from the bar and goes to clean them. Still, he addresses Sam. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"I think I'm good." Sam works on her wings, and well, if by that time the podiatrist has shown up, he'll likely be turned off by the fact that wings are messy and she doesn't care. However she's quite dainty as cleaning herself up, and pays out her tab with cash. "Thanks for chatting with me…oh hey, what's your name?"

Ianto smiles and nods. "Thank you, doctor! And my name is Ianto. What's yours?"

Samantha grins. "Ianto." she repeats, storing it into memory. "Oh, I'm Sam. Samantha. Great to meet you, Ianto. Don't take it the wrong way, but I hope we never meet up at my job."

"Right," replies the bartender with a chuckle. "Nice meeting you, too. Have fun!" He takes the case and rings up the tab, then it's on to the next patron.

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