<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/de/46/00/de460000d103b2a84c5891d8aeb1819e.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Wyatt Colton Faulkner (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12370769#msg12370769)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>St. Cloud, Minnesota | I-Hop | January 2014 | 11:30 p.m.<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Silky Levres (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12373275#msg12373275)<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Another day, Another dollar<br/><hr/><br/>No negative emotion, other than faint apprehension, crossed Wyatt’s expressive features when he approached the young woman lingering near the entrance. He did not really have it in him to judge off limited information. Instead, he had the habit, infuriatingly so, of trying to glean additional information about an individual or even situation before he developed a conclusion about them.<br/><br/>Sure, he noticed the grungy state of her clothes, in desperate need of a lengthy soak in boiling water and then wash in strong detergent, while her unkempt hair appeared to be composed of more matted areas than not. It still did not give him permission to mistreat her, at least not from his perspective.<br/><br/>He did consider the possibility that she might be a beggar. In recent years, the city had spiraled downhill, with increased criminal activity and fewer options for good paying jobs. Local politicians were the only real constant except they had shifted from blaming other party members for their failures. Their new targets were those without a real voice the evolved. Minnesota was not alone in this new trend as it occurred more times than not in most states. Yep, the evolved were nothing but a giant piñata for everyone to take a whack at when it was most convenient for them.<br/><br/>Either way, some of his co-workers would have treated her like a scraggly black rat, shaming her for daring to step out of the shadows and be amongst real people. Wyatt silently figured if he could serve elitists, grouchy elderly people, hungover college students, and the regular everyday douchebag with a strained smile he could exercise the same courtesy for her. She probably worked just as hard, if not harder, for whatever money lined her pockets, especially so if she was indeed homeless.<br/><br/>Winter was relentless in Minnesota. If one did not exercise enough caution, heeding the warnings which were reported daily on the local news and internet weather boards, they could easily find themselves in the hospital, diagnosed with either pneumonia or frostbite.<br/><br/>“Good choice,” he complimented with an easy smile. “The wooden chairs a bit wobbly. It can feel like you’re going to slide off if you’re not careful. You didn’t hear that from me though.” Wyatt chuckled but then stopped soon afterwards upon realizing his humor, as usual, only amused him rather than anyone else.<br/><br/>Clearing his throat with a light cough, he stepped in front of her and led the way towards one of the empty boots. He sat her down towards the back, figuring she might enjoy some privacy and the few of the darkened street. Some cars speed by every now and then but not many. It was a weekday after all. His mouth twisted into an obvious frown when he noticed a fresh dusting of snow beginning to fall. Only when she settled down comfortably did he settle the menus in front of her.<br/><br/>“C-can, I mean, May I start you out with something to drink? Umm, we have hot chocolate with marshmallows? There’s some tea. I think. You can have it cold or hot.” He asked, throwing out a few suggestions with an unconscious stutter, before he nodded his head when she requested some coffee.  Rubbing the back of his neck, he chewed the inside of his mouth, unsure what her definition of lots of sugar and cream might entail. “Do you want it syrupy or milkshake thick? You know what, it might be better if I bring the canisters over to you. I can never get measurements right. I can do it if you want but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”<br/><br/>His hand came up to push his glasses back onto his nose when he dropped his gaze to the table, noticing the money being pushed in his direction. “We can handle that part when you’re done. In case you want something with your drink. No point in ringing you up twice.”  Wyatt was about to walk away to start on her order but stopped midstride when she asked another question. His dark brown eyebrows lifted a fraction before what he had been in denial about sunk into his stubborn mind.<br/><br/>“Umm.” He started to speak but suddenly his tongue felt too large for his mouth, making it difficult for him to speak. His face instantly burned hot, causing the tips of his ears to glow crimson. “Uh. J-just give me a second. Just…” Rather than complete his statement, he burrowed his hands into his black uniform pants and strode off in the direction of the kitchens.<br/><br/>Only once out of sight did he release a pent up sigh from his lungs. And here he thought his life was rough. Wyatt poured out the old coffee, about a few hours old, into the sink and then began to brew a new pot.<br/><br/>“Hey Ed,” he called to the distracted cook, currently in the midst of watching some videos on his phone. “Eddie. I got an order for you. They want some of those pancakes, the buttermilk ones, with some eggs and bacon.”<br/><br/>“What type of eggs, dork?” The agitated man asked as he rose up from his seat, wiping his hands clean on his apron.<br/><br/>“Good question,” Wyatt said aloud and then went with the most neutral choice he could think of. “Scrambled?”<br/>“The fuck you asking me for? You’re the one who took the order, right?”<br/><br/>“Y-yea,” he said in response and then said more confidently. “Definitely scrambled…and not burnt. Please.”<br/><br/>Wyatt hid out in the back for a few minutes until the coffeemaker buzzed loudly, alerting him to the fresh batch being ready. Soon enough, he reemerged into the main area and then settled the drink in front of her, managing not to spill the hot liquid on himself or her. In addition to coffee, he provided her with some coffee and cream to add however much she wanted.<br/><br/>“I’m Wyatt, by the way." He tapped his finger against the nametag pinned against his shirt. "Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself earlier. It's a bad habit of mine..”