ArchivedLogs:In Line
| In Line | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-12-26 ' |
| Location
<NYC> Busboys and Poets - East Harlem | |
A quiet, artsy spot nestled away on a side street in East Harlem, Busboys and Poets combines cafe and bookstore in a way a Starbucks tacked on to a Barnes & Noble could never achieve. The food is a solid, multi-national cuisine menu that caters to all kinds of dietary choices, and its fair-trade tea menu is extensive. Its weekend brunch tends to draw a large crowd, but there is ample enough seating both at tables and on its many comfortable armchairs and couches that at other times of the week there is never a wait. The walls are adorned with the work of local artists, and tucked in among and alongside the couches are rows upon rows of books, with a definite slant towards the political and the bohemian. It's edging on towards closing time, and it's quiet in here. A couple tucked in a loveseat in a corner, a trio of students poring over books at a table, a long young woman packing up her laptop to leave. Elliott is just arriving; with the quiet there's no /line/ to wait in but she's waiting anyway, scanning the menu with an indecisive expression. She's dressed like -- well, like winter, dark slim-cut peacoat, olive cargo pants, warm boots, gloves shoved into her pocket. No scarf and hat so perhaps she hasn't come from all that /far/. Coming in with a backpack over his shoulder, Toma is dressed in thick gloves, a long coat, a pair of jeans, and brown furry boots. Already having what he wanted in mind, he steps behind Elliott, before recognizing her, his face turning into one of slight contempt at her sight. Toma tries to avoid eye contact with her, staring at the menu, rubbing his hands together. It's no secret that he dislikes her from the way he's moving his body. Elliott glances up when someone else gets into line behind her, a reflexively easy-warm smile on her face. Her brows raise at the look of contempt on the man's face, though, her large brown eyes scanning Toma thoughtfully. Her smile dims but does not fade, small and polite. She takes a half-step back out of position, gesturing with her menu to indicate Toma can go in front. "I haven't decided yet," she explains mildly. "You go on ahead." Toma stares at her for a moment, placing one hand behind his back /just/ incase of surprise shanking, before walking up to the counter, ordering two coffees and a scone to go. He looks over to her after he gets his stuff, still watching her. "Thank you.". Toma then heads to the exit, leaving. | |
