As expected, the place was already bustling with children when Joey had arrived- especially those whose elder siblings had just graduated and then left in order to party at Omega. Of course, Joey has never been the sort to have any problem with a shop brimming with kids, even if they are all hyped up on sugary dairy treats. After all, the cheerful guy does rather well with younger generations. This is probably due to the fact that he, himself, is a rather childish individual, loving things like goofy jokes and silly cartoons or gags. Of course, contrary to popular belief, the young man does still have maturity in him- he just doesn't see the point in growing up too quickly. After all, people who are constantly rushing around, focusing only on the future, will never really appreciate what they have. They just keep planning for the future, living for the future, and therefore never actually living, because the future is an unattainable horizon.
Of course, that doesn't necessarily means that he puts much thought into living in the now. In the end, it may very well stem less from philosophy and more from having believed that he would die as a child. Anyway, the point is, although it has been strayed from, that Joey has no qualms with appearing to be somewhat childish, because it is better than trying to act more mature than he actually is. The young man makes a silly face at an infant who is facing him, causing the small child to smile and giggle, face lit up with glee at the simple action. When the parent turns around to see the source of the sudden laughter, he reverts to be smilingly serving ice cream to a small girl with short brown hair, kept back with a clip, innocent as you like. "I like your hair clip," he tells her sincerely, referring to the clip, which has a little plastic ice cream cone on it. The little girl beams at the compliment, accepting her ice cream before turning to her mother and bragging that the 'ice cream man likes my hair clip.'
"Can I have a strawberry sherbert?" one little boy asks, although he has a strong lisp, making it sound more like "Can I have a thtrawberry therbert?" instead. Joey nods and begins to scoop it when, out of the corner of his eyes, he notices a familiar girl with brown hair dancing down the block, and tries to restrain laughter at the sight of her. Still, he can't help a wide, dimpled grin from looking at it, before turning back and giving the little boy his sherbert. When he glances out the window once more, it is to see that the girl, Summer, is staring through the window and, from the look of it, blushing quite furiously. He can't help but think that she looks rather cute like that, embarrassed, even if he always prefers a smile to anything else when it comes to people.
He waves at her, ice cream scooper still in hand, before setting it down and gesturing for her to come in, rather than standing outside in the heat like that. After all, she may just get a sunburn to cover up that blush, making her face crimson for a few days, at least. Well, she's probably wearing sunscreen, or probably doesn't really burn, but it is still rather hot outside. He can't really scold people for going without coverage himself, because the young man very rarely wears sunblock- he doesn't burn, after all, courtesy of heritage. The guy merely tans, if anything, and even that takes a while- especially because he doesn't exactly make a point of trying to tan.
Alex walked into Omega in high spirits. That night would no doubt be filled with plenty of the graduates using fake IDs to get alcohol, but she wasn't one to pass judgement for such an offense. She could already hear Shawn, the main DJ at the club, running through a few of the songs before the club actually opened for later. She was there simply to take inventory so that James didn't metaphorically smack her on the ass for it later. She hoped that Greyson would take her advice; she had heard from Shawn that the night before had been ridiculous and had told her oldest brother to take the day off. She'd clear everything up with James, as she usually did. Not that he ever really bothered to argue with her. Trying to argue with her about her decisions with her family was like throwing peas at a brick wall. It yielded no results. Except that you wasted peas.
She tossed her bag in the small employee lounge right next to the entry hallway of the club and went on into the main room. Her hips moved automatically with the beat of the song that Shawn was trying out, and the loud Jamaican let out one of his signature boisterous and contagious laughs.
"You were born dancin' out of te' womb, I tell ya'!" He said. Somehow his voice managed to carry through all the other noise blasting from the surround-sound speakers set up strategically around the massive room. Alex smiled at him as she did a small slide over the counter of the bar.
"Must have been pretty painful, then!" She shouted back as the music faded away. Shawn hopped down from his DJ stand, and slid a USB drive into the pocket of his cargo shorts. He walked over to the bar, with no less than a few steps and spin on the way, singing to himself quietly. His hair was close-cut and he had a rather oversized hat covering his skull. He wore a baggy sweatshirt emblazoned with a puma and tan cargo shorts, the outfit complete by white hi-top Nikes.
"Ya', well, I would'n know anytan' about dat'," He leaned forward with his forearms on the counter, his dark eyes on Alex's back while she picked up a tablet from under the counter. She was thankful that James had made the switch from clipboards to electronics long before; she didn't have her pen with her. Shawn watched absentmindedly as she went through the bar's large stock of liquers and liquors. She smiled as the words popped into her head.
Once finished with the inventory she noted only one thing wrong and set the tablet down. Sliding her phone out of her back pocket she was greeted with the all-too-familiar "Slide to Unlock" prompt. Following it she quickly tapped in her passcode and began to scroll down her contacts.
Tapping on the one that read "James DeTakeAChillPill" she put the phone to her ear and listened to the obnoxious ringing while Shawn played with his thumb.
"Sonuva' fucking BITCH!" Haley yelled out and leapt back from under the hood of the Ford SUV she was working on. Her pair of pliers went flying off to the side and she cradled her left hand. Somehow, from some magical place in the abyss that was the beat-up engine of the SUV from hell, a thin wire had snapped. Out at her. And made a nice, neat, surgical cut about 3 centimeters along the back of her left hand. She glared back down into the engine, narrowing her eyes at the offending machine. Everyone said cars couldn't have feelings; she begged to differ, as they often tried to injure her in more way than one in what seemed like revenge for her going inside their most precious areas. In hindsight, the entire idea seemed rather vulgar if one had such a dirty mind. But she didn't care right now. She simply leaned against the side of the counter behind her and wrapped her hand in clean gauze that she had made sure to go buy after the third bleeding injury she sustained in the shop. Now all she had to worry about was that nomadic guy that had showed up the one time coming back up again. Not that she remembered his name.
RPG
