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Post by Prince on Jul 23, 2007 4:17:33 GMT -5
In the mood for some Italian?
5 cents/pie
1 cent/slice
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Post by Tate Potter on Jun 12, 2008 14:12:51 GMT -5
She was starving for real good Italian Pizza. Her father had always said you could get a a lot out of a good meal and Tate had never argued with him over it. She loved to eat and she loved sweets and it made it even brighter that she worked down the block from a pizza place.
She walked out of the pizzaria with a steaming hot slice and some sweet buns in a box. She loved to eat and she owed Sweets some too, she was heading home and thought she'd swing into the lodging house and have a fun time with the boys there-- or at least talk to some. She paused, boys-- oh that nice looking police officer would be around wouldnt he? she glanced around openly, not seeing any sign of the morose looking policeman she sighed. That was the pits. He was adorable-- and she just wanted to feed him and make it all better..
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Post by Racetrack Higgins on Jun 12, 2008 20:40:49 GMT -5
Most people knew that, despite his rather American last name, Racetrack came from Italian roots. His mother was an immigrant, straight from Bologna, and his grandmother came over to New York soon after. He'd been raised by his grandmother after his parents' death, and she had raised him fairly well, with the usual Italian carefree view of life and all the pride that came with it. She had taught him the language, as well, and although he was out of practice he was still pretty fluent. But most notably, Nonna had cooked for him constantly. "Remember, mio nipote, there is nothing better than an Italian meal."
And boy, was that missed. Between the food at Tibby's, his usual place, and the bread from the sisters' cart in the morning, he didn't have much of a chance for some real Italian food. So when he heard from a friend who lived in the Bronx about Lombardi's Pizza for a penny a slice, he couldn't pass it up.
The only problem was money. Race had blown his earnings for the day on a bum bet at the Sheepshead, and he didn't have a cent to spare. He stood across the street from the pizzeria, looking a little glum. He watched a woman walk out and stand near the door for a moment, and decided to take his shot. "Heya, lady..." he said, looking as kind as he could as he walked over. "Spare a jitney?" He was asking her for five cents instead of the penny he would need. Hey, the opportunity presented itself, so he figured, why not go for it.
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Post by Tate Potter on Jun 12, 2008 21:29:02 GMT -5
Tate blinked at the sound and turned towards the boy who was asking her for money. She blinked at him for a couple moments before she frowned, tilting her head. "Have I seen you somewhere before?" she was born in Manhattan, passed the lodging house every day on her way to work in the Bronx-- didn't live to far from there actually she had seen most of the Manhattan boys at one time or another.
She thought for a moment before she handed him her slice of Pizza, "Here..." Money was a bit hard to come by but she could share her pizza right? And her sweets. "Want a sticky bun?" she couldn't help sharing food--- it was in her nature.
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Post by Racetrack Higgins on Jun 13, 2008 18:54:17 GMT -5
"Have I seen you somewhere before?"
Well, that was certainly a question, but Race was still a jitney short. He gave a noncommittal shrug in reply. "Dunno. Go to Manhattan often?" He assumed she was from the Bronx, and it wasn't too likely she went through Manhattan often enough to recognize him. Living in New York, you saw about a thousand different faces every day, and it took a lot to make the faces familiar.
"Here..."
She handed him her slice of pizza, which he took, slightly bewildered. Well, it was what he'd wanted in the first place...but a jitney would have been nice, too. "Thanks, lady," he said, and mused aloud, "Boy, ya know I don't remember last time I had a good pizza..."
"Want a sticky bun?"
"Wanna what?" Race questioned, the term unfamiliar to him (being a newsboy, his palate was obviously limited). He looked at the box she was carrying, and then his eyes went to the buns displayed in the pizzeria window. "Oh, them! Gee, no thanks, lady. Ya been nice enough already..." Maybe being nice would get him at least a penny?
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Post by Tate Potter on Jun 13, 2008 19:58:07 GMT -5
She chuckled at his bewilderment, truthfully Tate got that a lot. She listened to him as he spoke and handed him a sticky bun anyway, "I work at Stan's but I don't live to far from the Lodgning house in Manhattan, I promised Sweets I'd take her some sticky buns-- but you could use one to right?" A friend of Sweets, go figure but she was smiling at him anyway. She had a bright smile and it rarely faded. "And I have a feeling we're about the same age so-- " she held out her hand. "My name is Tate, so you can stop calling me lady it makes me feel old.."
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Post by Racetrack Higgins on Jun 20, 2008 10:47:00 GMT -5
"I work at Stan's but I don't live to far from the Lodging house in Manhattan, I promised Sweets I'd take her some sticky buns-- but you could use one to right?"
Racetrack nodded. If she worked at Stan's (he knew where that was, of course, any Manhattan boy would) then she might just pass the lodging house often enough to see some of the kids often. He took the sticky bun. "Thanks..." he said, his hands full. Well, he could forget about his jitney, but a pizza and a sweet pretty much was the equivalent. It was what he probably would have bought anyway. "Ya know, ain't that many people like you around no more. Generous, and all..."
"And I have a feeling we're about the same age so-- " she held out her hand. "My name is Tate, so you can stop calling me lady it makes me feel old.."
Racetrack grinned. He leaned over momentarily to put the pizza container on a nearby bench before clasping Tate's hand in his. "Pleasure!" he said. "I'm Anthony Higgins, but folks call me Racetrack."
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Post by Tate Potter on Jun 20, 2008 20:48:11 GMT -5
"Thanks..." he said, his hands full. Well, he could forget about his jitney, but a pizza and a sweet pretty much was the equivalent. It was what he probably would have bought anyway. "Ya know, ain't that many people like you around no more. Generous, and all..."
She laughed and blushed, she did take compliment well but it was nice to be told she was generous. Tate herself just felt that everyone should have a good meal in their belly no matter what the circumstances were. And she liked to share, it was how she was raised. Her father had the same kind of generous spirit. She shook his hand with a bright smile, always one to enjoy meeting new people.
"Why thank you, Racetrack." she said when she should stop blushing and finding words. "Really my name is actually Elizabeth but only my Aunt Mer calls me that." She liked Tate, Elizabeth just didn't seem to fit her to well and the idea of being called Lizzie made her want to quote Pride and Prejudice.
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Post by flanna on Jul 28, 2008 18:05:03 GMT -5
<<new day>>
Flanna sighed, stretching her short legs under the window table, munching on a piece of pizza slowly. Money was starting to get short...this damn price hike was going to start causing her major problems soon if she couldn't find another way to make money; she didn't know if she was going to make rent next month.
It was a mess, and she wasn't quite sure the best way out.
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Post by cricket on Aug 7, 2008 23:30:35 GMT -5
[New Day]
"...and you owe me a nickel for that pie you dropped, you clumsy tart."
Cricket lowered her eyes to let her dark lashes shade them from her boss as she counted out five of her meager pennies. Dropping them into his palm, she watched he storm back into the kitchen and listened as a chorus of curses streamed from him that made her cringe as he shouted at his chefs.
The only good thing about her day was that it was over, and she was alive. Sinking onto a crate stacked outside of the restaurant, she started to tally up her earnings for the day hopefully. She liked to do this before heading home, more to avoid her little sister knowing her struggles than anything.
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Post by muder on Aug 19, 2008 16:23:09 GMT -5
<<new day>>
Heather sighed, stretching out in one of the tiny booths. She had a full pizza in front of her. She wasn't intending on eating all of it; but with that and the pitcher of beer, she figured sge could at least get a bit sloshed before going back to the lodging house. And with a full pizza, most people wouldn't bother her, thinking she had company.
The event in the butcher had her more unsettled than she originally thought; she hadn't left the Bronx for a week; she couldn't really, not until she knew her father wasn't looking for her again.
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Post by Dodger Samuels on Aug 19, 2008 17:04:52 GMT -5
"Been looking for you," Dodger dropped to the seat and watched Murder with quiet eyes running his hands threw his hair. "Heard you slipped back into the Lodging House, you and Wolf fightin again, love?" He didn't want to get her angry at him but the leader was stressed and needed to figure out everything that he could.
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Post by muder on Aug 19, 2008 17:11:27 GMT -5
"So, what if I am? What's it to ya?" Heather shrugged, taking a bite of pizza, watching him from half lidded eyes. "Is got more to worry about than some idiot man who's just getting me upset...some bloody men got me noticed by my father again. I'm stuck in Bronx til further notice."
She shoved the pizza towards him. "What you need, Sam."
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Post by Dodger Samuels on Aug 19, 2008 17:43:46 GMT -5
He lifted a brow, sighing he nudged her pizza towards her. "I didn't mean anything by it Heather but things are getting a bit-- unsteady around here as well. Prices have gone up and that makes the idea of striking being tossed around and some blokes I never thought I'd see again have blown into town making it a bit more--- twitchy than usual." He sighed and folded his arms, leaning back against the booth. He considered her own woes for a minute and sighed
"Sorry about your old man Heather, I thought he'd given up some time ago.. "
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Post by muder on Aug 19, 2008 22:24:49 GMT -5
Heather nodded sullenly. "I think I ran into one--caused me all this trouble in the damn butcher. Pirate or somethin. He said he knew me...I'd never seen him before."
She rubbed her forehead, pulling out a cigarette. "Why would he give up, Sam? I'm his sole heir. I'm still carryin' his blood. I'm his property. He has rights over me til he retires."
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(c)Red
