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Post by cash dylan greeves on May 31, 2011 22:07:00 GMT -5
 you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESISTJ U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -He had to be honest; Cash had always had a problem with Starbucks. He was a simple man of simple tastes, he liked his coffee black and piping hot, but that seemed a near impossible request at Starbucks. More than once on his travels he’d popped in for a coffee only to receive the token confused expressions of staff offering him ‘frappucinos’ and ‘mochacinos’. What in hell are those? More than once, what had started as a friendly visit had escalated to frustrated words and a (in his opinion) pointless description of black coffee to whoever was serving. But he wasn’t on the road anymore; it wasn’t exactly chivalrous to threaten barristers when you would most likely see them at least once a week. They would probably instigate some sort of ban, and like it or not, Cash needed his caffeine hit.
Sauntering into the packed coffee house sporting his usual swagger, Cash miraculously managed to deliver nods and winks to the women in the nearby vicinity whilst manoeuvring around the people in his way. He’d never really seen so many people queuing for coffee- he was used to the run-down joints in Texas and Alabama that served coffee like tar and cheap diner food. Those places weren’t exactly packed with customers and definitely not for the coffee- cheap as it was. But, being in a place like Casper did mean one thing he most definitely liked- girls. And lots of them. In fact, he’d never seen so many hot pieces of ass in one place, not that he’d every really stayed in one place much. He felt it his obligation to make himself known to of much of them as possible- rude not to, right? And of course, they noticed him. Well, why wouldn’t they?
Drumming his fingertips impatiently on the counter, Cash blew his hair from his face and reached into his back pocket, producing a roll of crumpled dollar bills, selecting a few and stuffing the rest back into his jeans pocket. How much was this place again? “Coffee black, gimme’ the biggest one you have, darlin’,” his Southern drawl rolled from his tongue easily and he felt almost embarrassed due to how out of place it was. It wasn’t like he could help it.
Ignoring the stare of the barista who clearly wanted to club him for not using the words ‘grande’ or ‘venti’, he slapped his money down onto the countertop and took the cup from her hand, flashing her a quick smile and accompanying wink before moving towards a table. Placing his cup down, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair, quickly surveying the café. It was awkward, sitting alone in a roomful of people. He almost wished he’d brought a computer to look busy, but internet access and money for fancy computers was few and far between when your life was one long road trip. And maybe that’s why it was- to avoid the loneliness and awkwardness of being sat alone in a place where nobody knows your name.
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Post by trintenhollow on May 31, 2011 22:27:08 GMT -5
  Today was boring.
A trip to the local starbucks might be nice, Trinten thought as he walked into the bustling coffee shop. The blonde moved his somewhat long hair out of his face and walked over to the counter. He didn't need to look at the menu. He was going for warm,simple, and small. He ordered a veinte hot chocolate. He hated the taste of coffee and always liked the taste of the drink at Starbucks. The girl handed the drink to Trinten and he gave her a quick thank-you and flashed a smile. The blonde, looked around the shop. A few geeks at the tables playing on their computer. One guy was paying his taxes. A few granola type people talking about their outdoor activities, An of course, the only lone table he was about to sit at was taken by two girls in black booty shorts and matching pink tank tops, they eyes Trinten and giggled. Trinten rolled his aqua orbs as he sat down in the nearest chair. He might have sat with the girls if they didn't talk like valley girls.
As Trinten turned his head, he soon noticed the man sitting across from him. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Trinten's moth opened up to speak, and closed than opened up once more.."I'm sorry. I didn't see you...I can move if this seats taken. He offered with a small apologetic smile at the guy as he picked up his drink and was ready to leave, if and when the guy said to. This is why he hated being new...He knew no one, and he wouldn't be sitting across from some random stranger if he actually knew someone...The only option of sitting was next to the guy doing his taxes. Tax-guy seemed nice enough. A bit of a geek, but nice...Than, again, not the best choice of conversation for a eighteen year old.
Trinten wished he could have went with his sister to her friends house. One of her friends had to have a older sibling right? At least than April might be able to introduce him to someone. April had always been great at making friends fast. Than again, with that open-warm an loving smile that they both inherited from their mother did help her gain a lot of attention. No boy got to be called Aprils boyfriend unless he passed Trint's approval. So far, none had. The last guy had been seventeen and a druggie. Way to old for his fourteen year old sister.
TAGGED||OPEN
NOTES||---
WORDS||442
LYRICS||YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL - JAMES BLUNT
CREDIT||RORA @ HOS[/color][/font] |
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Post by cash dylan greeves on May 31, 2011 22:49:55 GMT -5
you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESISTJ U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Looking up from his cup of coffee, left half-drunk and lonely on the table, Cash noticed the guy stood in front of him, looking an amusing mixture of embarrassed and awkward. Or as could also be described, the exact way Cash felt even entering the café. Although, this guy did seem to fit in better than he did- blond hair, blue eyes, that whole ‘Abercrombie and Fitch’ look about him- Cash was actually surprised that he was about to sit alone. Didn’t guys like this practically hold up Starbucks as their place of worship? Apparently not, seeing as what appeared to be scribbled on the stranger’s cup was ‘hot chocolate’ rather than coffee.
Ever the opportunist, Cash grinned up at the guy from his seat in the stool, delivering his own classic smirk and the quirk of an eyebrow, before lazily extending his arm in a wide gesture, indicating that the man could sit down. This was probably his first opportunity to at least meet somebody, rather than wander aimless and alone around town before deciding to give up and going back on the road. But damn did he miss the road. And his old Chevy beat up though it was, was his baby. Girls come and go, but cars as beautiful as she was live forever. Well, not exactly. Somewhere in Tennessee his beautiful darlin’ had spluttered and the engine had died, and somewhere on the way to California it had been tinkered with and stalled so many times it wasn’t worth mentioning. People always asked him why he didn’t upgrade- all Honda this, Lexus that. But hell no, everybody worth knowing knows that vintage is best, and you cant beat a good old American muscle car, no sir’ee.
Looking back up at the strange man in front of him, Cash lifted a booted foot and kicked the leg of the stool across from him, pushing it out as an available seat, and scrubbing a hand across his face, finally spoke. “No, no, no. Take a seat right there, although, uh, I gotta admit, you’ve chosen the wrong table,” Cash grinned and let out a dry chuckle, his eyes sliding to the group of giggling girls in the corner, dressed for the club rather than the café. And subtle though he was, his eyes ran a slow length of their bodies, before raising a large hand to give them a little wave. Satisfied by their immediate blushing and waving in return, Cash shook his head and looked back at the guy in front of him, his eyebrow quirking once more. “Hot chicks, random guy, hot chicks, random guy. Yeah, I don’t understand your decision,” Cash’s face was serious, but he hoped the man stood nervously before him caught the sarcastic tone.
Figuring teasing somebody you’ve never met and haven’t bothered to introduce yourself to was a little rude, Cash shrugged and extended a strong, calloused hand across the table, holding it out expectantly. “Cash Greeves. How’s ‘yall doin’?”
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Post by trintenhollow on May 31, 2011 23:13:09 GMT -5
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Post by cash dylan greeves on May 31, 2011 23:34:18 GMT -5
you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESISTJ U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Me, I’m okay. This is my first real home since sleeping in the backseat of my car, so I’m tryna’ adjust. It’s different to say the least. But not so bad.” Cash hesitated, running a hand through his hair and slicking it back, a habit of his when he was thinking.
Grinning boyishly, Cash just shrugged and his hand slid to the napkin on the table, picking it up and examining it quickly, his lips curling and smile widening. “Lisa, huh? Cute name. Nice ass,” Cash mused, his tone that of a viewer appraising an art piece. Taking the little napkin he folded it and pushed it down into the front pocket of his jeans, ready to be forgotten about later. It wasn’t like he’d actually call it. What sort of chump would he be if he made the first phone call? A desperate one, that is. He’d always prided himself in his ability to make the girls come to him, the girls call him. Sure, maybe his views were a little outdated, but they hadn’t failed him yet. He didn’t much intend on wining and dining this ‘Lisa’ anyway- the sort of thing that he was looking for didn’t need a phone number, just a meeting in a bar and a little too much alcohol for both parties. He couldn’t help it, he wasn’t the commitment type. And he couldn’t blame it on not having found the right girl- there’d been a lot of girls. And I mean a lot of girls. Some good, some not so good. Some gold star worthy. He’d had his fair share of the ladies, and maybe a few other guys’ fair shares. Well, gotta shake what your momma gave ya’.
Looking up at Trinten with a bark of laughter, Cash denied the piece of paper and pushed it back towards the original receiver, his free hand lifting his cup and taking a sip of coffee. Well, the guy seemed to have figured him out, he’d give him that. Although, he’d never exactly passed himself off as the ‘brooding, mysterious type’. But, he didn’t understand the way he operated. A true lothario, like himself didn’t need a helping hand. Oh, no, no, no. “No way, dude. See, it’s all about the chase. I can’t take that because I haven’t earned it. See, women are like…deer. The more interesting women, the ones worth sticking around for, are the ones you gotta tail a little, gotta catch ‘em first. The ones who walk straight into your line of fire, still a good meal, but nothing special. Going to the market and buying a cut of meat, forget about it! See where I’m going with this?” Cash nodded and slapped the table as if he’d just bestowed the wisdom of the world upon his new table-mate. “I mean, where’s the challenge in that?” Cash laughed, pointing to the number on the table, lying forlorn between the two Styrofoam cups.
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Post by trintenhollow on Jun 1, 2011 22:17:54 GMT -5
Hm, I see your point Cash." Trinten replied as he listened to the guy explain thinking on girls. His blue eyes focused on the man before him, he couldn't understand why Cash hadn't gotten a apartment or anything yet. Trinten grinned and leaned over the table some. Got an apartment, rent's pretty low, housing but the housing is good. You could move in, pay half rent? $30 is the monthly rent split in half... Trinten outstretched his hand hoping Cash would take it in agreement. It was true he didn't know much about the guy, but hey. Why not help a fella out? Trinten waited. We can discuss rules and all that shit later.[/color] Trinten added in as he waited for his response. Trinten had applied for a job at Barnes and Nobles but he hadn't gotten a call back as of yet. His parent's were paying for the rent for three months, till Trinten could get a job and work everything out. TAGGED|| OPENNOTES|| ---WORDS|| SHORT/color]
LYRICS||YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL - JAMES BLUNT
CREDIT||RORA @ HOS[/center][/color][/font] |
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Post by cash dylan greeves on Jun 1, 2011 22:49:10 GMT -5
you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESISTJ U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Scratching at his three day stubble (about time he did something about that, he was beginning to look like a caveman) in deliberation, Cash cocked his head as he mentally ran through the finer points of the offer. All things considered, he could do with a place to stay. Sleeping curled up in the back of his car wasn’t exactly the ideal option for a guy 6 foot 4, and the accompanying back ache wasn’t exactly a joy to behold. It was probably time to fix that before he started creaking like an arthritic old man at the age he was. Not cool. And running water and electricity was a done deal compared to sponging himself down in truck stop diners with highly questionable washcloths. Those were definitely not the Ritz, and judging by the graffiti on the walls, he wasn’t the only person that thought so.
Plus, think of the chicks. It was a definite that his chances of taking girls home would increase when he actually had somewhere to take them. Oddly enough, some girls actually turn their noses up at being romanced in the back of his car or a restroom stall. Huh. Although, it was hardly fair he increase his chances of scoring any further. Don’t want too unfair of an advantage now do you? Takes all the fun out of it.
But he could already picture the bed. How long had it been since he’d actually slept in a real bed- one without the springs poking into his side. One without the stained, cheap duvets and the flat pillows. He couldn’t even remember having a bed at all, besides a cot his momma found at Goodwill. But a real bed, that would be nice. Very nice, in fact. He was already picturing one of those real swanky jobs- king size with the thickest mattress that you sunk into when you laid down.
Looking with a speculative eye across the table, Cash kept a serious face before raising his palm to hand and spitting in it and finally grasping the hand of the man leaning toward him. Of course, he didn’t really consider whether he would find it just a touch disgusting that he’d just put his hand in Cash’s spit- but hey, that was how you sealed the deal where he was from!
“Just so you know, I don’t do removing my shoes before I enter the apartment, I don’t watch reality TV, I do not like scented candles, flowers or power ballads, I will not discuss my feelings or have any ‘sharing time’ and if I even hear something so offensive as a CD by some whiney, pre-pubescent boy band, I reserve the right to exert brute force,” Cash paused, his little grin finally appearing, more teasing than anything else, before finishing: “…BUT, you have a deal, my friend!”
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Post by trintenhollow on Jun 1, 2011 23:00:11 GMT -5
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Post by cash dylan greeves on Jun 1, 2011 23:28:48 GMT -5
you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESISTJ U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Noticing that Trinten didn’t look all that comfortable what with his hand covered in saliva, Cash just grinned and shrugged. Funny, most people liked his saliva. These people being of the female persuasion, of course. Although, a few too many whiskeys and his saliva did seem to flow freely to whoever was in close company, be it guys, girls, bartenders. Cops trying to escort him from the bar for indecent exposure. And those people never seemed to mind his saliva. Well, maybe scratch that last one. Hey, maybe that was the reason he spent that night in jail back last year? That or the fact that far, far too much liquor had somehow convinced him mooning a group of police officers drinking off duty was a good idea. Which it wasn’t, by the way. If there was any knowledge he had worthy of passing on, it was that.
Following Trinten’s lead, Cash lifted his cup and finished the rest of his coffee, wincing at the taste in his mouth on realizing that the beverage had long gone cold. With one hand, Cash effortlessly crushed the cup and, craning his neck, spotted a trashcan that he sailed the crushed Styrofoam cup into. With a little smug grin of satisfaction at his winning goal, Cash reached behind him and tugged on his jacket, reaching for the zip on the leather bomber. He wondered if it was appropriate to leave, or was more polite to sit awkwardly in a coffee shop whilst not drinking any coffee. Not that he’d ever much cared for what was appropriate (see said event above that resulted in a night in jail).
“Oh, hey. And, now that we’re roommates, I promise to stick to the obligatory dude’s code of bros before hoes. However,” Cash raised a finger, tilting his head in consideration- “this code can be terminated if said ‘hoe’ is hot. And I mean, really hot. Not like beer goggles or last call ‘hot’. Like…” nodding conspiratorially, Cash made a childish gesture to his chest with his hands to signify breasts, only to be rewarded with the furious stare and disapproving sigh of two old women sat at the adjacent table. Whoops. And of course, their muttering between one another was probably not a good sign. He perhaps wondered if despite attempting to be on his best behaviour earlier, he was once again about to be banned from Starbucks. “Or you know, if the girl has daddy issues, just broke up with her boyfriend, has a hot friend/roommate/sister or is on the rebound. You know, maybe I don’t exactly stick to that whole guy code thing, but I do have a lot of beer and a classic car, so never mind.”
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Post by trintenhollow on Jun 1, 2011 23:31:43 GMT -5
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