ArchivedLogs:Caffeinated Lifeline

Caffeinated Lifeline
Dramatis Personae Jamie, Melinda
In Absentia	2013-03-15 '
Location <NYC> Montagues - SoHo
Montagues harkens back to the day when SoHo was filled to the brim with artists, with its mismatched furniture, all plush and decorated heavily with carved wood, but remains trendy enough to keep its newer patrons by making sure that furniture is clean, in good repair and inviting. The antique tables all have been reinforced to seem less creaky. The real draw of the cafe is the smell: fresh roasted coffee mingles with perfectly steeped teas. Spices from crisp pastries mingle with the tang of clotted cream but don't overwhelm too much the scent of chalk on the menu boards. Friday nights at Montagues generally means couple nights. Old couples come in to touch base with loved ones after work, while new ones are meeting for the first time in a casual setting, investigating new connections. Couples may dominate, but there are still a fair number of small groups clustered around the large sitting area, like the book group that has taken over the small side room reserved for parties. Melinda is manning the register tonight, looking slightly more classy than the average worker, wearing a half apron instead of the full bib the trainees wear. Her long hair is swept up in a doubled over ponytail and the wispy tendrils that generally frame her face have been pressed down with a hair band. She smiles politely to everyone who comes, but there's wrinkle between her brows that indicates a less than happy interior. The darker circles under her eyes bespeak a lack of sleep. The cafe is hopping, however, and Mel doesn't really have a chance to dwell on anything negative - unless it's work related. Jamie Madrox looked like shit when he arrived in New York. Sorry, it's true. Like any tourist who doesn't know better, he came in to Montagues so ironically alone tonight with a gait that suggested perhaps more purpose and intent then he meant to convey. He, too, shares the sort of sleepless pallor that Melinda sports, though for different reasons, no doubt. He stands behind Melinda before she turns to head for another table in an attempt to stop her and hold her up, hands up in front of him languidly. "Pardon me, pardon me. Pardon. Sorry. Know you're busy. I'm in desperate need of coffee. Please, help me. Coffee." "I'm sorry..." Melinda looks confused to be stopped by someone midstride, but she pulls herself together and puts on a smile. "What can I get for you? One of those 'regular coffee, black' kind of guys?" She waits, taking a moment to look Jamie up and down, considering. "I don't care. Literally any pick-me-up would be fine, even if cocaine was the only one on your menu. I will pass out in the middle of your floor in the next ten minutes, probably. Caffeine, please. And I guess a table to drink it on." Come to see it face-to-face, Jamie's eyes are red and his hair is a little tousled. He looks like hell warmed over. Madrox looks around in a daze, and then, without asking, seats himself in a wide wide booth. His head slumps, and he props his forehead up in his palms. "Sir, are you okay?" Melinda follows Jamie to the table and eyes him, lips pursing unhappily. After some consideration, she moves to the back and fetches a mug and a pot of coffee, pouring him the coffee at the table. She returns the pot and pulls up a chair and sits down next to the table, kitty corner from his position. "Are you in some sort of trouble?" Jamie quickly gathers the mug in his hand and lifts it to his lips, eyes widening for emphasis as he looks at her and raises his brows, while giving her a thumbs up. While he slurps noisily, out of the corner of Melinda's eye, she might vaguely recognize that someone dressed exactly like him just stepped into the bathroom. But then Madrox drops his mug with a clink to the table and mumbles: "Crisis averted. It's been a long day and I just have to pull myself together. Don't worry, the tip is going to be huge. " He grunts, and slurps another sip of coffee. "At least I think so. What's standard for New York bistro?" "Eh, tipping at all seems to be rare these days." Melinda quips quietly, shrugging as she gets to her feet and starts to put the chair back. She rolls her shoulder. "It's pretty much American standard, fifteen to twenty percent, if you like a person. We just charge more for everything, so it feels like you're paying more tip." She purses her lips again and eyes him before introducing herself. "I'm Mel. Let me know if you need anything else." "Thanks, Mel. Thank you, seriously. You pretty much just saved my life." That same guy dressed like Jamie seems to walk by towards the bathroom again. But come to think of it, did anybody actually leave? "I'm Jamie Madrox and I really owe you one. I felt like I was about to keel over." Melinda finally catches a glimpse of the second man and pauses for a moment, barely recognizing that someone is still talking to her. She turns around and gives Jamie another bright and professional smile. "Nice to meet you, Jamie. I like to think we serve amazing coffee, but life saving? That's generally an exaggeration and cannot be publicized because of the FDA. They're such sticklers for scientific data to back things up." She gives the cup a glance and then looks up at Jamie's face. "Did you need a refill?" "Actually, I think I need to do the opposite. Sorry, excuse me." Jamie stands up as abruptly as he sat down, and finds his way towards the bathroom. He shoulders his way into the door, disappearing for a moment. Should Melinda leave the table, or should she stay there, it will only be a few scant seconds before he reappears. No, definitely just one person in there. Maybe Melinda had less sleep than she thought? He returned to his table, with or without her presence. Melinda is hovering, perhaps concerned that this somewhat unkempt man has not actually shown proof that he can pay his bill - and sneaking off to the bathroom for a rendezvous with someone dressed like him doesn't bode well for the store's cash register either. When he returns, she attempts to look busy talking to other customers quietly. "Oh, sure. She left some CDs. They are up at the front if you want to purchase them." Jamie looks refreshed. There is a glow to his skin that wasn't there before. He does not look like he has been hung wet and put out to dry on the towel rack, is what I'm trying to say. When he takes a seat at the table, he pushes the cup of coffee aside and fishes out some bills. Quite a few more than he'd need! Maybe he isn't always this generous, but after he glances over at Mel over his shoulder, he probably never will be again. Let's not talk about tab percents, that's all I'm saying. He stands up to go quietly, all of a sudden no-talky and all insular walky. After finishing the discussion on the previous night's open mic, Melinda heads back to Jamie's table and picks up the payment and the empty mug, giving the cash a quick count before folding it and slipping it into her apron. She watches the individual leave with a curious but more relaxed expression, far more relaxed than when she was giving furtive glances at the bathroom door. She gives a little wave, but doesn't seem to expect it returned. Sneaking a little glance over his shoulder just in time, Jamie huddles down into his coat and gives a teensy little wave on his way out the door. Ding ding.