Starring:
Date: June 15th, 2010
Summary:
Zelda and Sierra small talk at the Oldcastle Pub
"Bar Food"
Oldcastle Pub and Restaurant
Monday nights aren't known to be good for bar business. While there are some that relish in weeknight drinking, they are the quieter, more serious drinkers. Seated alone in one of the booths in the back, Zelda has an untouched pint of beer near the edge of the table and a look of concentration as she looks through the papers. Her long, dark hair has been knotted at the back of her neck to keep out of her face. Whatever brought her here is not merry revelry.
Sitting at a table near to the booth that Zelda has seated herself in, Sierra look at her own pint of beer before her. She smiles, taking a long gulp of her drink. "Ah. Mon dieu. That's needed." She waves down the waitress, smiling all the while. "I'm ready to order my food. Might I order a Shepherd's Pie? Fries on the side. I'm famished! Merci." She nods to the woman, turning back to her own table.
There are so few people, that the voice of Sierra is easily heard. The former baker glances up at the French and then leans one elbow onto the table, resting her cheek onto her hand. Her eyes drift back down to the newspaper in front of her, but none of it makes any more sense than it did before. She's become a regular here, most days sitting in the back at a booth combing over all the newspapers. But, whatever she's looking for doesn't seem to be in there.
Sierra with a quick back tilt of her head and a drawing the glass to her mouth, she downs the rest of the beer quickly, without parting her the cup from her lips. With a final 'aaaahhh' she places the cup on the table. "Nothing like a good beer." She murmurs. "Though I do miss Alexander Keith's. Now there is a good beer if I ever had one." Does she make a habit of talking to herself? Who knows.
Who knows, indeed? However, Zelda does glance back up, frustrated from her fruitless searches and looks over at Sierra again. She can't decide if Sierra is one of those people who is crazy and talks to herself or if she just talks to herself. There is a slight, but important, distinction between the two. "Is that a regular habit?" she asks. It's not unkind, her tone of voice. In fact, she sounds pretty neutral.
Sierra glances sideways at Zelda, smiling. "What's that, mon cherie?" She tilts her head for a moment, furrowing her brow and thinking for a moment. What could she be talking about? OH! "Ah, you mean my talking to myself? Oui. I'm afraid to say that years, spending time at newspaper offices has made it a force of habit. Helps you think things better, sort out your thoughts."
"Actually," Zelda smirks just slightly, "I was going to ask if you inserted French into your everyday conversations often." It's her idea of a joke, since, yes, she did actually mean her talking to herself. Glancing down at the newspapers strewn about her table and then back at Sierra, she cocks her head a bit to the side. "You work at a newspaper office?"
"Aaah!" Sierra shrugs and nods. "Oui. Je fais en effet. It's a way of life. Most people where I am from flow easily between French et Anglais." She says happily. "Yes. Well…no. I did. I worked for le Queens Gazette. I do not any longer though. I also spent much time at one as a child, for my mother worked at one."
With a frown, Zelda realizes that she completely understands Sierra's French and has a desire to respond in kind. But, just like with so many other parts of her day, she doesn't know why. With a shake of her head, she banishes the thought and keeps herself to English. It's easier that way. "Where are you from?" She asks. "Your accent doesn't sound European. If you don't mind my saying." The information about her childhood is taken in stride, as well, and nodded at. "Are you with another paper now, then?"
Sierra smiles widely. Without a second thought as to what is on Zelda's mind, she says, "You are quite correct, madmuazel. I am not from France. I am from Canada. New Brunswick." She says kindly. "I am not at a paper now, non. I am with Evosoft, working as a secretary for le CEO." She nods. "What, if you do not mind me asking, is it that you do?"
"Ahh." Zelda nods and picks her head up off of her hand finally, sitting up straighter. "I've never been there. I'm sure it's lovely, though." As far as she knows, that is. Maybe she has been to Canada. Is that how she knows French? Well, it's not a lie if she doesn't know it's a lie, right? With another frown, she moves the conversation on. "Evosoft?" It's a name that's been in the papers, that's for sure. It doesn't sound familiar in a gut-sense, though. "I'm sure I've read about them." With a shrug, she gestures at the papers. "I'm sort of…looking." For herself, for a clue, a job is among the many things she's been trying to find.
Sierra nods a little. "Quite lovely, oui." She shrugs. Gazing at the woman across from her. "Perhaps it has been. I do not know if it has recently. I'm just a secretary now." She says with a wide grins. "And, to be honest, I don't do as much as I had expected I would." There's a shrug. The French Canadian woman wiggles her nose a little. "Looking for work, hmmm? Not an easy task, I know." Boy, does she know! "What are you good at doing? Perhaps I could help you. Maybe there's even a job opening at Evosoft!"
A job as a secretary where she doesn't have to do anything? That sounds too good be true. However, it's not like Zelda's qualified for any job such as that. She's mostly just been looking for work as a waitress or some such thing. It's easy to go unnoticed there, at least. "Oh, don't worry. I doubt I'd be very good at anything they'd have to offer there. Thank you, though." How to explain that she doesn't know what she's good at? That she doesn't have a resume? That the only thing she remembers involves collars and prisons and who knows what else? "It's very nice of you."
Sierra waves her hand a little bit. "Nice? It's just what I do! Help one another. That's what I always say. You never know, there may come a day when I, myself, need helping." She says thoughtfully. "Oh! How silly of me! I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself. Je m'appelle Sierra LeBlanc." She takes a deep breath in and sighs it out.
With a hesitant nod, Zelda smiles at Sierra. "Ah. It's, yes, a pleasure to meet you. I doubt you'll ever need help from me. But, I do appreciate it." Yes, she's stalling. Because she's not exactly sure what to do at this juncture. "My name's Zelda." She doesn't quite have a last name to give out. She's not even sure if this is her own name. It sounds normal, though, and she'll just have to trust her instincts.
Sierra smiles widely. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Zelda." Yes, she's quite aware that no last name is given. But that will be that. "So, Zelda, what was it you did before you were jobless? If you don't mind my asking, of course. I would not want to intrude." She says casually, gazing at the other women.
Maybe she's like Madonna, or Gaga, no last name needed. Or, maybe she doesn't like to give out her full name to people she just met. Whatever the case, she doesn't offer any other name, and is glad that Sierra doesn't push for it. As for her second question, the woman frowns. Her answer, obviously, can't be what the truth is, so she just replies with a shrug, "Waitress." It's as if she's ashamed of such humble means, but really she's ashamed of her inability to remember what it actually was that she did before this. A tracker, a hunter, a pet? What was she? That couldn't have been her whole life before this.
Sierra tilts her head, gazing at the woman with interest. "Ah. So that is why you were looking for a waitressing job." She says softly. Though she's still curious. "Well, nothing to be ashamed of, I suppose. I've done waitressing before. It's…fun." Is all she says in response to that. "Where do your passions lie? What is it that you'd love to do?"
Luckily for Zelda's darker skin, it's hard to tell when she's blushing. So, it may even be impossible to pick up on her discomfort at the questions. She attempts to hide it by folding up her papers one by one - quickly - with a lot of rustling. "I'm not ashamed," she replies with a quick frown as if to prove that very thing. "I love to do a lot of things. But, none of them seem to have a good job market." Avoidance, again.
Sierra listens to the woman, intently paying attention. "Well, you never know if they do or not unless you try to market them, do you?" She says with a soft smile. "Just because it doesn't seem to be like a job skill at first glance, doesn't mean that it's not, okay?" She nods firmly as he Shepherd's pie arrives. "Mmm. Looks delicious!" She says happily.
"I'll remember that." The irony of that statement hits Zelda full in the face. The smile that she gives to Sierra has a bit of a smirk still in it, but she attempts to still be friendly. Gathering up her papers, she leaves her still untouched beer on the table in front of her. "Enjoy your dinner," she says. "Maybe I'll see you around." Though the woman doubts it - it's a large city - she does sound like she means it. And off she goes, through the door and into the night.