Large Table

[Administrator]

Have a group?

[Jack Kelly]

When Jack Kelly walked into the restaurant alone and took a seat at the largest table there, several employees there gave him smoldering glances. He ignored them and leaned his chair on the two back legs, indicating that he intended to get comfortable. What, did they think he would sit here just to have the table to himself? Jack knew people would come, and when they did they needed somewhere to sit. Everyone came to Tibby's after selling; he couldn't help that he could sell his papes faster than anyone. Someone needed to come and claim the table, after all.

"Watch it, fella," said a waiter. "You intendin' on taking this whole table? Ordering a big meal, then, eh?" He laughed aloud at his own attempt at a joke.

"I'm expecting some people," Jack said curtly. He turned away to end the conversation as the door opened.

[manhattan]

Manhattan came in the back way tying on her apron whistling a jaunty tune trying to keep her mind away from the fact that she would like to be anywhere but work.

"Stew! The love of my live" She cried throwing her arms around the waiter she was relieving. "What do ya got foah me taday." She stepped back smiling knowing Stew hated to be touched, it was worth every minute of it.

Stew straightened his jacket and put on the air of a hoity toity Waiter. "Two in the back booth, a john and jane, separate checks, a john at the window table and another taking up the large table though if i were you i'd use your..."He looked her up and down"...charms to move him to another. He's gonna be trouble." With that Stew ripped off his apron and fled.

Manhattan stood there nodding and grinning until she heard the back door close behind him, then rolled her eyes and unscrewed her smile. "Need ta get da stick outta his bum." Manhattan muttered under her breath. Heading for the counter she leaned on it looking over the diner before her eyes alighted on Jack and her entire body jumped off the counter.

"Jackie Boy, as i live and breath..." She walked around the counter and jumped on him giving him a hug. "You ah still alive." She touched his face, arms, chest. "Ise can touch you, feel you...dats da same ting forget i said dat, and boy can i smell you." She grinned at him unabashedly crooked.

[Milo]

Milo pushed open the door of the restaurant and glanced up at the bell over the door as it made its soft, resonant little ding announcing the arrival of a new customer, another chance to make a buck for all of the people who worked there. He always thought that was kind of neat. For awhile, he'd considered getting a little bell of his own so he could ding it when he made a sale but he figured it's be too much of hassle to lug it around along with all of his papers every day so he had long since given it up.

As he got further into the room, he glanced around to see if he recognized anybody, preferably somebody older as that was the only thing that usually stopped people who didn't know him from coming up to him and asking him if her was there with his folks. It was always annoying to him and a little bit sad. Especially since it only happened when he didn't have his papers with him. He guessed that it wasn't as out of place when people knew he was a newsie but it just seemed to him that they should be just as worried about him being alone as a newsie as they were when they thought he was just a plain old kid. But there wasn't really anything he could do about it anyhow, so he just tried to avoid it as much as he could.

After a minute or two he finally spotted Jack, the Manhattan leader, sitting at the really big table around the middle of the room. He wasn't sure if Jack really knew him too well, after all he never really talked to anybody that often, especially after he got back to the lodging house, but he figured the older boy would at least recognize him and he would certainly serve the purpose of keeping other people away.

He walked over to the table and climbed up into the chair across from where Jack was sitting. He sat there for a minute or so, looking wordlessly at the older boy before deciding that he should probably at least say something considering that it was another Manhattan newsie he was dealing with and the leader, nonetheless. "Hi" he uttered quietly crossing his arms on the table in front of him and resting his chin on them, his eyes still fixed almost unblinkingly up at Jack, his expression neutral.

His attention was finally pulled away after a minute or two when a waitress who he recognized as another one of the Manhattan newsies, though he couldn't remember what her name was. She greeted Jack boisterously if a bit sarcastically but she didn’t seem to notice him too much. In her defense, he was fairly easy to overlook, it happened all the time and he couldn’t really say that he was disappointed that it did. He had never really liked to be the center of attention.

((sorry for butting into your thread but I'd already written the first four paragraphs of it when I saw your post and I didn't want to just delete it ))

[Jack Kelly]

((No problem, Milo--the reason I posted at the large table was because I wanted a group! ))

The door opened, and Jack glanced over to see a newsie he'd heard of. He had some kinda foreign name, but the boys called him Milo. Jack was ready to turn his attention back to Manhattan when Milo approached, with a timid "Hi."

Jack didn't do well with kids, mostly because he didn't baby them. If they were old enough to be newsies, they were old enough not to be treated like they needed help spitting, or anything else. He knew that the other leaders (except maybe Prince) would think the same way. Some kids liked the fact he didn't take nothing from them. Others who used it as a security blanket didn't. He didn't know which category Milo fell under, but he would take a chance. "Hey Milo. You can sit here for the time bein', but if enough of the fellas come I'm gonna ask ya to clear out. Saved this place for them, see." He didn't know how Milo would react, and didn't really care. He was treating the kid like he would any other kid of any age.

"Jackie Boy, as i live and breath..."

Jack noticed Manhattan coming toward him. He gave her a wry grin as she approached. "Ya miss me, Hattan?" He allowed her to hug him, but his return was half-baked. Jack knew people who hugged all the time; he wasn't a big fan. But he didn't mind Manhattan as much as a lot of people. He had respect for her, because she could work two jobs; and she wasn't a pain in the neck, for a girl. Jack knew plenty of girls that he had on more than one occasion chastised sharply: go buy a skirt and learn to sew, because you ain't fit to be a newsie.

"You ah still alive. Ise can touch you, feel you...dats da same ting forget i said dat, and boy can i smell you."

Jack batted away her hands, still grinning. "Watch it. I ain't the one who smells like she been workin' with bread'n beer all day. Oh, now wait..." His grin widened. "I'm thinkin' it's time for your lunch break, Hattan." He took her arm and pulled her down into the seat beside him. He was still wondering if his friends would show, but he knew that as long as Milo could be there, Manhattan could, and she would have to get up eventually anyway. "Tell your friend there I'm expectin' a crowd. Only thing is, the crowd's not expectin' me..."

[dutchy]

"Leader meeting, or something, Jack?" Dutchy asked having overheard his leader's words coming through the door of the restaurant. He dropped into the chair beside Milo anyway. Dutchy was never one to impose, but he was dead beat, running from Snyder earlier. His clothes were still rather dusty from dropping his papers -and Snyder's hat- in the street and making a big fuss of retrieving all of it. He glanced to Milo, for a moment. The kid he had caused the big distraction for looked around the same age, but...

Nah, it wasn't him.

"Heya, Milo." Dutchy nudged the younger kid gently with his elbow offering a smile. The kid didn't smile too much, it seemed. Dutchy always felt a bit protective of the younger kids. At least when they didn't get on his nerves so much. He hadn't been much older than Milo when his father had dropped him off in Kloppman's hands.

Dutchy nodded and smiled in acknowledgment to Manhattan. He had seen her around a few times, but didn't really know her. Besides, he was never that good at talking to girls, unless they said something first. Shiner said it probably had something to do with not growing up around motherly figures, but alot of the other guys didn't either, but didn't have the same problem. But Shiner's uncle was a doctor. Maybe she knew more than Dutchy.

[manhattan]

Ya miss me, Hattan?

"Like i miss weasle." She smirked laughing.

I'm thinkin' it's time for your lunch break, Hattan

"Hold yoah horses cowboy, i just got heah. Let me at least bring everyone something ta drink." She bumped him with her shoulder "Make it look like i'm woirkin. Which is moah den i can say for you." She grinned crookedly and winked.

Manhattan grinned widely as people started to practically flow into Tibby's. It was always like this when one of the leaders came in the restaurant it became packed quickly as she expected it did everywhere they were. She honestly didnt know how they put up with it. It would drive her insane. Shaking her head she filled up some glasses and taking two trays brought over root beer for every seat, even the ones yet to be filled.

As she placed the glasses around the table she smiled at Dutchy and Milo. "Hows da sellin boys?" She placed drinks in front of them then took her seat again. Taking out her notebook and rolling her pencil over her knuckles. She'd been out selling earlier and would kill to go out for the rest of the day. It was a perfect day.

"On da house." She grinned nodding at the drinks.

[Milo]

Milo gave a small shrug at Jack's comment. He wouldn't mind getting kicked over to another table, he was used to it. After all, he really wasn't the best conversation maker and people would usually rather sit with somebody who actually talked to them. Also, he tended to creep people out a little. He wasn't sure what it was about being stared at for no particular reason that people didn't like (after all, it never bothered him) but, for some reason it just really got to them. Besides, he figured that with a table full of loud, rowdy teenagers smack in the middle of the room, he wouldn't stand out as much and, thus, it would serve the same purpose as actually sitting with people did.

He turned his head again as Dutchy strolled in and sat down in the seat next to him. Dutchy was an okay guy so Milo mustered up a brief smile and a short wave for him when he said hi.

After a minute or two he crossed his arms on the table again and laid his cheek on them, kicking his legs back and forth against the legs of the chair as he listened to the older kids' conversations. His eyes moved between them as they spoke and he tried to read their expressions. He liked doing that. Most people were easy to read and people would be surprised how much people lied about how they felt about each other.

He was pulled away from his little activity when Manhattan walked back over and asked Dutchy and him how selling had been before placing several root beers on the table. "Good, thanks" he muttered politely as he pulled the root beer in front of him closer to him and took a sip from it without picking it up off the table. He had learned from experience that the glasses here were too big for him to pick up when they were full without spilling the soda all over him.

[Jack Kelly]

((I play Racetrack and Specs, we'll invite them to the party as well. But I won't go on their accounts, I'll just include them in Jack's posts.))

"Leader meeting, or something, Jack?"

Jack grinned. "Dutchy! Take a seat." He was glad to see that people were beginning to come, as he'd predicted they would. How he would've loved to see the look on that smug old waiter's face now. "No meeting, Dutchy. What can I say, I'm a popular guy..." He was only half-kidding with this, and didn't allow time for a sarcastic reply. He said quickly, "You seen anybody else around here, Dutchy? I been waitin' for folks to show up 'round here so we can have a party." He wasn't planning on a party in the first place, but Jack was good at making things up off the top of his head. He decided it would be swell to have a party, so they'd have a party.

"Hold yoah horses cowboy, i just got heah. Let me at least bring everyone something ta drink. Make it look like i'm woirkin. Which is moah den i can say for you."

"Heya, I don't pretend nothin'!" he called after Manhattan, and shook his head with a wry grin. The only thing he pretended at his work was pretending there was some kind of interesting story when there wasn't.

At that moment, the door opened again, and a boisterous, "I have arrived!" followed by loud laughter, boomed through the restaurant. Jack could think of two people who would do that, and glanced over to see both of them walk in: Racetrack in a good mood, and Specs on any day of the week. They were both laughing hard, and they reached the table and sat down immediately. "Cowboy," Racetrack choked through his laughter, his face flushed. "Specs gotta tell you what happened to him. Oh my God, if it ain't the funniest thing I heard all week..."

"I gotta tell ya, Jack," Specs echoed. "I tol' Race here and by the end we was both dead laughin'. Funniest damn thing--" he stopped and glanced at Milo with something like guilt on his face. But the moment quickly passed as he spotted Dutchy. "Dutchy, you better listen, too. Funniest thing you'll ever hear..."

"Hows da sellin boys?"

"About as lousy as the food here, Hattan," Race replied with a grin.

"As good as you are beautiful, darling," Specs said, and stood up to take some of the drinks from Manhattan's hands. He winked at her and set them down.

"On da house."

"Say, thanks," Jack said, and didn't hesitate in starting to drink. "So what's the story, Specs?"

"Hattan, siddown, you gotta hear this..." Race said quickly.

"Can the kid hear it?" Jack asked, looking at Milo.

"Sure, sure!" Race nodded.

[manhattan]

Manhattans grin widened as Race and Specs fought over the spotlight.

"Never a dull moment once you two arrive. Now when its just Jackie boy heah..." Manhattan rolled her eyes as she let Specs take the drinks. "Well, you guys have had ta put up wit him longah, you know..." she snored a bit and grinned.

About as lousy as the food here, Hattan

As good as you are beautiful, darling,

"Tell da cook dat Race and ya wont be heard from again." Manhattan leaned over and kissed Specs cheek. "Youse gets youah food on da house." she winked at him then sat down next to Jack again.

"All right I'm sittin I'm sittin." Manhattan said "Proceed" she waved her hand like a queen or what she thought a queen would wave like.

[dutchy]

Dutchy smiled broadly, seeing Race and Specs walk in. Never a dull moment with them, that was for sure. Trying to make Milo feel a bit more apart of the group, Dutchy spoke a short aside to him, "They tell the best stories, just you wait..."

Darn, but Milo was shy. His body langage usually said far more than the kid ever did. He remembered being so much like that. But around Jack, Racetrack and Specs, you had to speak up every now and then just to keep in the game!

His news from Medda could wait a bit more. Besides, he relished a bit in telling the guys big news like this. Well, maybe not big news, but something they'd be excited to hear none the less. Dutchy didn't get the spotlight very much. He didn't demand it like Race or Specs, or naturally draw it to himself like Jack.

Dutchy laughed, "Oh, Lady Manhattan is ready. Do go on..." He gave a smirk Manhattan's way before turning his attention back to their anxious storytellers.

[Milo]

Milo turned his head as Race and Specs burst in, both laughing raucously and looking in very good spirits. Milo rolled his eyes and let out an amused little sigh. Those guys could be really weird sometimes. He guessed that the ponies must've been really nice to Race today for him to be so happy. As for Specs...well he was just weird like that all of the time as far as Milo could tell. But at least it was a happy kind of weird and not a sad one or a mean one.

He turned to face Dutchy as he made another attempt at conversation. He gave a short nod in response. Personally, he preferred seeing things to hearing about them but he liked stories okay too.

His neutral expression was replaced by a resentful little pout when he heard Jack's comment. He could hear anything that any of them could. He wasn't a baby. Heck, he probably heard more from day to day than all of them combined. When nobody noticed you were there half of the time and you listened to pretty much everything other people said, you didn't stay unfamiliar with many concepts for very long.

[Jack Kelly]

((I would have made the story about the Delancey brothers, but I think they're both taken as characters. So can we all assume that Woody is a Delancey-esque type of kid who everyone hates? 'Preciate it. --J. ))

Jack watched as everyone got settled. Manhattan took a seat beside him, and Dutchy egged on Specs and Racetrack. Milo seemed content to keep to himself, which was okay by Jack. He wouldn't force the kid to leave just yet, and he wouldn't tease the kid either by trying to make him talk. He wasn't that type of guy. But Jack had little time to notice much of what Milo was doing. Specs and Racetrack were arguing over who was going to tell the story before they decided to split it. Specs, not exactly the world's best orator (which is why he and Race were arguing, Race was a better storyteller by far), would start. Jack hated listening to Specs tell a story because he turned every sentence into a question at the end.

"So I was swingin' back by the distribution center, just on my way over here, right? And I see Woody by the gate, stacking papers, right? So I yell out to him--I yell out, I start heckling him a little, see? So he comes through the gates and acts like he's about to fight me, right?"

"He don't got the guts to fight by hisself..." Jack mused, shaking his head.

"Not a chance. Well, anyways, he's getting in my face about it, right? But all of a sudden..."

"Lemme tell," Race said quickly, and picked up the story seamlessly. "All of a sudden this dame walks by. Some kind of dame, too. And Woody forgets all about Specs. He stops the dame and tries to act all suave--well, as much as a fat slob like Woody can be. Well, all of a sudden he screams..."

"Sounded like a girl scream!" Specs interjected.

"Sounded just like a girl's scream," Race echoed, and went on immediately, intent not to let Specs pick up again. "And he says to the dame she got a huge bug on her neck. All of a sudden, she slaps him across the face. He falls--collapses, onto the ground!--and he starts having a fit."

"Just like that maniac we seen walkin' around here a couple times," Specs said. "He starts with, Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, why does everyone hate me, I should leave this city forever, I want to go home, why me why me..."

"Hysterics, the whole time, right, Specs?"

"Right, right!" Specs leaned in to the table, indicating the story was about to get good. "So then--he stops, and he gets up, and he goes to me, see? And he says to me--swear on my mother's name--he says, with tears in his eyes and he's dead serious and he has this little whimsy voice on, too--he says, 'I just want someone to love me.' "

Race and Specs both cracked up again despite themselves. Through his laughter, Specs managed to say, "Well, I died right then and there, right? And then the guy--" he paused and took a breath, "--the guy start sobbing again and walks past me, like he just found out his house burned down. It was--wow."

Jack snickered. "Real funny guys..." But the question was, now what did they do?

((Okay. I know the story is 110% L-A-M-E. But I couldn't think of anything else. It's cool if your characters think it's not so funny, too. -J.))

[Sweets]

It was at this point that the bell above the door rang and sweets stepped in, clearly just having gotten a fit of laughter under control as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. As her vision adjusted from the bright sun outside she spotted the table crowded with her fellow Manhattan newsies and she made her way over, still chuckling lightly.

"You fellas are nevah gonna believe who I just saw bluberin' ovah by Horace." She took a seat at the rowdy table, quickly snagging someone's glass of water and taking a few gulps (they were strewn about, so it was unclear exactly whose water was whose).

[shiner]

"Old Wibbly Woody?" Dutchy smirked to Sweets, laughing more at Racetrack and Specs' -especially Spec's- telling of the story than the story itself. He'd bumped into Woody a few times but managed not to get into much trouble.

Shortly after Sweets walked in, Shiner did. Dutchy figured either she was selling today and it didn't go so well, as she was in her more casual attire, or something was just going bad. She didn't look angry, but sad, really.

"Heya, Shiner, over here!" Dutchy waved over to her, then quickly to Jack, "You don't mind, do ya, Jack?" ever courteous. It was Jack's party after all. But Dutchy wasn't sure how he felt about a girl who came to the Lodging House for refuge only to go back to her uncle a few months later.

Shiner smiled to Dutchy and moved the chair on the other side of him out for her. She smiled to him and sat down, "Thanks, Dutchy." She gave a smile to the other boys, with a over-all greeting, "Hi, boys. How was business today?"

"You didn't?" Dutchy asked curiously. shiner shook her head a little, then looked to Sweets, "I'm Shiner. I don't think we've met?"