Post by Oliver Young on Jul 12, 2007 0:47:03 GMT -5
"No worries, love. Everyone has their days," he told her with a shrug, referring to her 'bad hair day'. Glancing around for their waiter, he held up his hand again, giving the fidgety little beaner a 'check, please' kind of look.
Oliver sat there, drinking his second Corona and eying his 'date'. He wasn't even buzzed at this point, he'd need more hard alcohol if he was going to put any moves on her. And she probably didn't even think of him like that. A girl like Coop? Liking a guy like Ollie? Fat chance. He was one of those starving musician types... only not so starving at this point. His hair cut alone screamed emo, and his band's music screamed pop punk. So let's just say their worlds didn't exactly collide.
He finally brought the check about ten minutes later. "Take your sweet time, why don't you..." he muttered under his breath, taking a glance at the receipt before signing it and slipping his Platinum AmEx into the leather booklet. The waiter came back to fetch it, scanned it and whatnot, then brought back a copy of the receipt for Oliver as well as his credit card.
"Thanks, chap," he nodded to the guy and placed his card and the receipt back into his leather Hurley wallet before returning that to the rear pocket of his jeans and standing up. "C'mon, love, let's get you home," Oliver suggested with a smile, standing up and downing the remainder of his second Corona before abandoning the empty bottle on the littered table.
Ollie adjusted the maroon and black tie he wore loosely about the popped collar of his white collared shirt, which went un-tucked in the typical Oliver fashion. Shaking his blond bangs out of his eyes, he held out his hand to her to help her up from her seat.
Oliver sat there, drinking his second Corona and eying his 'date'. He wasn't even buzzed at this point, he'd need more hard alcohol if he was going to put any moves on her. And she probably didn't even think of him like that. A girl like Coop? Liking a guy like Ollie? Fat chance. He was one of those starving musician types... only not so starving at this point. His hair cut alone screamed emo, and his band's music screamed pop punk. So let's just say their worlds didn't exactly collide.
He finally brought the check about ten minutes later. "Take your sweet time, why don't you..." he muttered under his breath, taking a glance at the receipt before signing it and slipping his Platinum AmEx into the leather booklet. The waiter came back to fetch it, scanned it and whatnot, then brought back a copy of the receipt for Oliver as well as his credit card.
"Thanks, chap," he nodded to the guy and placed his card and the receipt back into his leather Hurley wallet before returning that to the rear pocket of his jeans and standing up. "C'mon, love, let's get you home," Oliver suggested with a smile, standing up and downing the remainder of his second Corona before abandoning the empty bottle on the littered table.
Ollie adjusted the maroon and black tie he wore loosely about the popped collar of his white collared shirt, which went un-tucked in the typical Oliver fashion. Shaking his blond bangs out of his eyes, he held out his hand to her to help her up from her seat.