2010-07-15: Job Opening



Date: July 15, 2010


Ace is offered a chance to earn her way off the street.

"Job Opening"

Faicco's Italian Specialties, New York

Making with a hasty departure, a skill she is ratherr adept at, Ace leaves the scene of the would-be-trouble to escape being questioned by the cops. Never works out for the betterment of her life when she is, it seems, usually resulting in lockdown. Or worse. Taking the time to look around herself, she pauses before ducking swiftly into an alleyway where she is now standing, back pressed against a brick facade while she thinks about what happens.

Next to the alley is a bath oil shop, currently closed - and on the other side of the shop is Faicco's Italian Specialties, open and doing brisk business. Everybody's gotta eat, right? Half a dozen guys are chewing over the results from the Yankees/Mariners game the other day - a couple of whom Ace might recognize from the fistfight at St. Mary's - and one of whom recognizes her as well. "Be right back, boys," he says, rising to his feet, "gotta go check up on something."

Of course the scent of food manages to waft in the air just as Ace inhales deeply, causing her stomach to grow pittifully. "Maaaaan." Heaving a disgruntled sigh, Ace crouches down and kind of curls up around herself, arms hugged to her legs. Hunger's really nothing new to her, it usually something she can ignore, but right now she's musing over her situation, not paying attention to her surroundings which means she totally misses how she has been seen.

Heading down the sidewalk, Stefano glances around— did she duck into the storefront? It's dark enough to conceal someone… but probably not, he checks the door and it's still locked. As he spots her in the alley and rounds the corner, the streetlight behind him grows a little brighter, to the point of obscuring his features when he does speak up. "Hey. The chick from Father Hennessy's place, right?"

Standing quickly when she is spoken to, Ace's fists are balled up, her expression darkening. Stefano's voice, perhaps heard while at the church where the soup kitchen was, is new enough for her to not be able to place who it might belong to. "Uh…yeah? You's a cop because I'm telling you right now, man. I wasn't trying to hurt no one, really. I just wanted the kids to leave the Father alone, you know?" Looking a bit more intensely, she squints slightly to try and see if she can make out the features of the man.

Now that gets a laugh out of the man. "No, I'm not a cop," replies Stefano, leaning back against the wall. "We were with you on that, believe me. I like your style, too— got more balls 'n both of them guys put together, even they had two bats." Of course, when you realize you've brought a bat to a gunfight…

Ace can't help herself and finally steps a bit closer, curiosity winning over caution, now. "Ah. Kinda thought I recognized your voice but couldn't tell." Stefano gets her to puff up a bit when he compliments her, her ego and pride stroked which leaves her just about glowing. "Hey, you know. just wanted to help the Padre out. They do some good work. Help out a lot of my friends. Couldn't let them go and get bullied."

He pushes away from the wall, lighting up a cigarette. "Yeah, so whatcha doing back here, anyway? Me and the guys from work were getting dinner," he explains, pointing back toward the street, "you should come introduce yourself— my wife's out past ten anyhow, but some of them are taking off pretty soon now."

Again with the food, this time the mention of it which makes Ace's gut growl again, it getting her to press her hands to her belly while grumbling at it. "I was avoiding the cops," is her answer. "Didn't want to get arrested for assaulting that kid. Last thing I need is that kind of charge in my file." Yes, she has a file. A rather full one if anyone were to actually look. "Food sounds good but…" Clearing her throat, she pushes her discomfort aside and simply nods.

"Tell me about it," says Stefano, shaking his head as he walks back out. And glances up toward the streetlamp high above. Was that--? Hard to tell, have to try it again in the morning after he's gotten some rest. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he motions for another seat to be brought out, then gestures toward the other men at the table, introducing them in turn. "Hey, remember that chick I was talking about, with the right hook? Look who just showed up. This here's Michael, Nick, Jimmy— one with the shit-eating grin's Emilio. And this here's Steve, he's moving to Chicago next week so his money's no good today."

Ace hesitates when it comes time to actually sit down, using the time Stefano speands introducing the fellas to stand and sway anxiously. "Hey, I'm Ace," she manages to squeak out once everyone's named, her left hand used to wave as well. "How's it goin', huh?" With nothing left to do she finally parks her carcass in the chair, it turned around at first but she remembers where she is and turns it back around face-front so she can sit in it properly. "So," she says after a moment, finally finding a way to speak without her voice quivering, "You make it a habit to feed people like me," that asked to their host, Stefano looked at right in the eyes. She doesn't say 'homeless' in front of his friends (although it is probably obvious she's at least poor due to how she dresses) but she figures he'll know what she meant by that.

The guys seem friendly enough. Emilio makes a point of leaning forward to shake Ace's hand; Jimmy leans back and out of the way, merely nodding. "Who, me? Not really." Nevertheless, Stefano gestures to the waitress before turning his own chair around. "Actually, with Steve heading out soon, we could use another pair of hands at the warehouse— I was gonna run some interviews, but maybe we can skip all that bullshit. You interested?"

The thought of a job would be welcomed by the majority of the people in Ace's situation but for her it brings a wave of trepidation; having a minimal education results in her being pretty much illiterate and anything like math is an alien science to her, leaving all but the dirtiest jobs well out of her reach. "Doing what," she asks while watching the waitress, trying to pose curiosity without posing anything like interest, not wanting to give Stefano the impression that she's going to take him up on the offer right away.

"Like I said," Stefano explains, "a pair of hands. Move stuff in and out of the truck, get it done quick enough to stay on schedule without damaging the goods. There's details, but you can pick 'em up along the way."

Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - a dirty job is exactly what he's sizing her up for. Any idiot with muscles can learn the warehouse gig - but these guys get paid for more than that, and she might be able to help them there, too. If not… well, they can deal with that when it comes.

"Yeah, I can do that," Ace eventually gives as an answer, still not sounding too sure but she will give it a shot. Worse comes to worse, she can pull one of her disappearing acts and be done with it, right. "So where is this warehouse and when do you need me to start?" Distracted by this, Ace pretty much foregets that she is hungry, food and the need for it a distant memory.

The waitress hasn't, though, as a fresh plate of sausage penne is dropped off at the table. As if on cue, Mike picks up the argument about relief pitchers where he left off with it earlier, which drags most of the others back into it as well. Maybe they'll be sticking around a while longer, after all.

Ace chews her lower lip as she picks up a fork, it looked at like one might look at a snake, her brow lined in thought. Whatever she was thinking passes quickly and the decision's made, the food tucked into like she hasn't eaten in a week. She tries to keep up with the conversation but all she can do is nod once in a while, baseball something she has either no interest in or no knowledge of. Makes it a very good thing as it keeps her silent which makes it easier to eat.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License