ArchivedLogs:Social Interaction

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Social Interaction
Dramatis Personae

Elliott, Samuel

2013-07-18


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Location

<NYC> Russian Tea Time - Upper East Side


This chic and upscale restaurant serves surprisingly little tea for their name -- though it can be found, on their menu, and quite good quality at that. Elegant and understated, there is an old-world feel to this place. For those who make their dress code (and book reservations enough in advance), the food here is good, hearty Russian fare, although the main attraction here comes not from their extensive food menu but from their extensive bar. Their vodka comes three double-shots to a flight, for those with strong constitutions (and a safe ride home.)

Samuel rarely takes time out of his office during work hours... Or any other time for that matter. But his assistant has insisited and rather than lose someone capable he's conceded. Having actually taken an afternoon to visit the Russian Tea House. He sits at a table by the door. This lunch time rush seeing the place fairly crowded. Yet Sam seems vaguely oblivious to these crowds. His attention on a tablet before him. He mutters to himself in a vaguely annoyed fashion at whatever it is he's studying so intently.

Elliott's hours are all over the map. Law student, activist, her schedule is /erratic/ at best; it's hardly surprising to find her here or anywhere else as she makes her way inside the restaurant. Elegant but summer-light, in long white lightweight slacks, a pale seafoam-green blouse, tan ankle boots, there's something veeery faintly awkward-uneven about her gait. Very quiet electronic /signal/ coming from -- her /leg/, for those who can detect such things. Her brown hair is pulled back into neat ponytail, makeup just a subtle-natural touch today.

Her dark eyes sweep the crowd; she exchanges warm words with the host in soft murmur. "-- No, I'm in no rush," comes her answer a little bit more clearly, "-- mm. The bar is fine, though, it's just me today." The seat at the bar she is directed to is not far from Samuel's nearby door-adjacent table. She watches his annoyance with a small quirk upwards at the corners of her mouth, finger skimming the menu absently though she seems to know it well enough to not give it /too/ much attention.

The signals in the room get the odd check from Samuel, for the most part it's nothing he's not expecting. He's not even bothering to read peoples e-mails and text messages at present. Yet the signal from the leg /does/ draw some attention. He does take a moment to study that somewhat more closely, heading to the bar as he finishes his drink. He makes sure to place himself closer to the signal and thus Elliott as he motions to the server. He offers a polite nod to Elliott as he leans against the bar near her.

"Having problems?" Elliott's tone is warm, cheerful enough for all her expression is a little /weary/ -- made moreso for the beading of sweat on her face, the kind of /heat/-bedraggled look as she shakes off the oppressive summer afternoon in favour of the restaurant's blessed air conditioning. Her fingers flick towards the tablet that he was looking annoyed at, in indication.

Grinning Samuel shrugs a shoulder, the tablet quickly slipped into a pocket. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just looking over the problems that require my attention. A usual work issue." He chuckles a little as he orders himself a soda. "Usually, I'd stay in my office where I can work with them straight away... But people tell me it's not healthy to lock oneself away without human contact for prolonged periods." His words come in a soft English accent. His smile warm.

"So you come here and bury yourself in your electronics," Elliott says, but her tone is teasing-light. Her smile shades more approving as Samuel slips the tablet away. "People are right. Humans are social creatures, isolation isn't healthy." Her fingers rest lightly against her menu, posture shifting to turn just a little more towards Samuel. "Good food probably doesn't hurt, either. God knows /I/ can't cook to save my life."

Shrugging Samuel turns a touch more towards Elliott, his smile becoming amused. "I do. While I agree, humans are social creatures... And I can be very social when time permits. I find that I've always got too much work and too little time. I fear that I'm never good company when I know there's work to be done." He frowns a little and then shakes his head. "For example, I've failed to introduce myself. I'm Samuel Griffith"

"When time permits," Elliott echoes this with a quiet laugh. "That's always the big question, isn't it." She extends a hand towards him, long fingers calloused-rough for all her elegant attire. "Elliott Carruthers. I feel you on the work. I spent so long on a military schedule, it's weird not having someone /tell/ me when I sleep. Left to my own devices I find I'm trying to schedule work twenty-/six/ hours out of every day."

Shrugging Samuel grins to Elliott. "I tend to work until the works done." He shakes the offered hand. "I don't deny that I'm obsessive. I've been known to spend weeks in my workshop, but the alternative is me being a nightmare to live with and everyone being miserable." He shrugs a shoulder. "Better I lock myself away and do what I need to I think."

"Is there any other way to work?" Elliott's smile lingers, quick-amused. Her handshake is firm, brief, and then she looks back to her menu. "Never been a fan of spreading misery, there's plenty enough of /that/ to go around /already/. What /do/ you need to do? I mean, what do you /do/? For work? Or -- fun? Or anything, really. Human companionship," she says, lighter. She folds her menu closed, decision apparently made.

Shrugging Sam motions to the tablet. "I'm in System security. I run my own business, but we're currently making a push into more mainstream projects. As for what I do for fun... I very much enjoy computers and technology in general. I'm something of an inventor." He shrugs a shoulder, his smile becoming a touch wry. "As for human companionship... I don't tend towards the exceptionally social."

This prompts a laugh, bright-brief, but it isn't clarified yet; Elliott is briefly distracted by turning to give her order -- a small cup of borscht to start, Moldavian meatballs as a main course. "That is the stereotype," she says, a little wryly amused once she's given her order. "Geeks and our lack of social skills. You seem pleasant enough, though. Just /like/ computers better?"

Nodding Samuel takes a sip of his drink. "Oh, I've been told I have social skills. I just forget to employ them at times. Especially when a project... Gets my attention. Computers are easy for me, I can see what needs to be done when I'm working with them... And I'm generally able to do it. But what about you? What do you do for work, fun and social interaction?"

"That's -- complicated," Elliott's smile is a little crooked. "I'm in the Navy; I got back from deployment earlier this year. I'm in law school right now, I -- guess that's almost like a full-time job. The Navy still owns me, though. She reaches forward to curl her fingers around her glass, one leg slowly, almost tentatively crossing over the other. Her brows crease faintly with the movement, then level out. "I like people. I like people who like people. With all the chaos in the city these days I don't think there can be /enough/ connection, you know? I did," her smile widens, just a little, "EE before law school; between being a /geek/ and being in law school I think I'm /supposed/ to have neither time nor skills for a social life. But it's important. There's place for work. Gotta /make/ place for fun or everything just gets buried in stress."

A slow and amused grin breaks across Sam's face. He shifts his weight against the bar, his head bobbing in agreement with Elliott. "Oh, I definately agree. The issue comes when your idea of fun is... Almost identical with your work. My business has stress and its share of annoyances. But when I lock myself away to finish a project? Then there's no stress, no worries nothing but me and my work." He shrugs a shoulder. "I don't think many people really understand that I'm not weighing myself down with more stress when I start the next project."

"That's a good feeling." Elliott lifts her water, taking a long slow sip. The ice rattles in the glass as she sets it back down on a coaster. "It doesn't sound like an issue to me. If it works for you, it works for you." She lifts a hand to gesture out towards the restaurant around them. "What brought you here, then. Did /you/ want people, or did someone else tell you that you /should/ want people?"

"Actually my assistant told me that they don't care if I want people or not." Sam grins faintly. "If I didn't start getting out of the office ever few hours, then I'd be looking for a new assistant." He shrugs a shoulder. "My work habits make life difficult for her, but she /is/ good at her job, so for now I've started eating my lunch out."

"Most people I know would kill to be /able/ to leave their offices every few hours," Elliott says with a small answer of Samuel's faint grin. "Couldn't you just let /them/ take breaks to go out, if they wanted, and /you/ continue working, if you want? That seems like the kind of compromise that'd leave everyone happier."

Nodding Sam looks at Elliott. "Her work's dependant on my work. When I'm working twenty hour days seven days a week... Well her work load rises more than a little." He chuckles quietly. "If I send her away she comes back to more work and more stress, unless I stop working as well." He shakes his head. "But either way, I think it's more that she's worried I'm going to have a break down."

"Mmm," Quiet and appreciative, this might be to Samuel but is just as likely to Elliott's arriving food, which is set before her. She unfolds her napkin into half, sets it in her lap. "Are you?"

Shrugging a shoulder Sam laughs. "I /enjoy/ the work, people think I'm obsessed with the results. But that's not the case. I like the work. I find it relaxing. So no, it's not going to lead to a break down." He finishes his drink with a wide grin to Elliott. "But I think it's safe for me to get back to my work. Enjoy your meal. I've enjoyed the conversation."

"Likewise," Elliot says, lightly, returning the grin with a quick smile. She tips her head to Samuel, a quick sharp nod. "Enjoy your --" The smile curls wider, warmer. "Well. Work." For a moment her eyes linger on him, but just a moment. It isn't long before her meal occupies her, attention turning hungrily to her borscht.