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Date: 06 May, evening
Location: Bar
Status: Public (Dustfinger)
Summary: Dustfinger goes to the bar

Dustfinger was bored from waiting that a Silvertongue arrived to the manor.

He still had the money from Arty, so he he thought could go and drink a glass at the bar.

He went in the bar and took a barstool by the counter.

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Dustfinger shrugged. "Not many people pass through here, and you only want to see a show so often."

Joe nodded.

"So, would you be interested in another kind of job if it was something you can do, or do you only actually want to stick with performing only?"

"I never learned anything other than performing," Dustfinger said. "It's no other job I can can do."

"Maybe there's something around the hotel that you could do?" Joe suggested. "I could use another pair of hands in the bar, too, to serve drinks to the tables in the evenings when there's more going on here. I'm not that easy on my feet with a tray of drinks in my hands."

"Maybe I can", Dustfinger said. "I don't know. I never tried that. I don't drop things often."

"If you want to, we can try. I could use another pair of hands here."

He didn't just say it because he already liked the man.

"Maybe we can", Dustfinger said. "But I want to see if there is someting else first. I think I'm not so good with this kind of work."

"We won't know for sure unless we try, though, will we?" Joe said. "What would you say about a test day?"

He wondered if the man was shy, had no confidence in his own skill at all or simply didn't want to tell him no.

"Unless you're really rather not."

"I... I don't know." Dustfinger wanted to have some money. He needed it. But working in regular work was not for his nature.

"It's very... sudden."

Joe smiled at the younger man.

"Don't worry. I'll not be mad at you if you don't make a decision right away."

He pointed at the mug. "How about another one?"

Dustfinger considered it for a moment. Then he nodded. "Okay," he said.

He watched as Joe filled up the glass.

"You're a good man, you know."

Joe smiled a half-embarrassed smile.

"Thank you," he said.

"I mean it." Dustfinger said. "And I'll think about it."

He looked around the room. "How many people come here that do not live in the hotel?"

Joe shrugged. "Some do, but not too many. I think the hotel may have a bit of a reputation for... odd... inhabitants."

"Really?" Dustfinger asked. He thought about it. Yes, some of the people here were strange.

"I guess you're right," he admitted."Why do you need anyone at all then?"

Joe came around the counter, letting Dustfinger see his cane and his gait. "I'm not too good with serving tables," he said. "I can't use both hands for carrying trays and sometimes it gets hard to balance one - especially if it's very full or during those hours when the room is pretty crowded. I'm much better behind the bar."

Something close to pity stirred in Dustfinger. The man had a hard job, tending his bar and waiting tables, when he was obviously not in best health. He wondered what had happened to him. Had he been a soldier? Soldiers returned home with all kinds of injuries. That was the same here as well as back home.

Joe knew the expression that crossed Dustfinger's face.

"You don't need to feel obliged," he told him quickly. "I've been running bars and pubs for over a decade. I can handle it."

Moved to http://www.ltsafehouse.com/sites/thread.php?type=1&name=Thread%20240

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