Hiring Bart

December 06, 2017:

Bart stops in at Luke's for a job interview with Luke and Owen.

Luke's Bar

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Jessica Jones, Tony Stark, Tim Drake

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It's Owen's night off! And yet, he is there at the bar. Granted he is not behind the bar, he is seated at it drinking. He also has a laptop, a binder of papers and pint of beer in front of him. The crowd is starting to pick up, but there are still plenty of empty counter seats and tables. Owen is rather studiously flipping through the binders and occasionally peppering Luke with questions fruitlessly. Are you incorporated? What's your tax id? These type of things. It's not so much that he expects Luke to know it off the top of his head, more that he's taking a petty type of revenge for some great slight.

Every few minutes his phone buzzes and he glares at it, texting back furiously, a rueful smile on his face. When his phone is not distracting him, he is researching POS systems, EDI ordering systems, and all other sorts of upgrades to the bar's business systems. He mostly keeps Luke apprised of any decisions, but doesn't really ask per say. As far as he's concerned, he has carte blanche to upgrade this place into the modern age. Though he draws the line at holographic menus, let's not lose the charm of the neighborbood bar after all.

*

"So your grand plan is to drive us into bankruptcy /before/ you can inherit the bar?" Luke says dryly as he as he works a silver shaker off to the side in measured movements. After all, he doesn't want to pulverize the ice inside. "We talked about starting to use an app for ordering, you know, baby steps. Not getting all George Jetson up in here." The drink is strained into what Luke calls the 'girlie' glass, which means it's not pint shaped and meant for beer. He's still getting used to having to cater to a more metropolitan crowd, ever since Stark was sighted here. It gets delivered to the far end of the bar, and he returns with a napkin with a number scrawled on it with lipstick. "This one's for you, I think."

*

Let's face it.​Bars? Not Bart Allen's usual scene. He can count the number of them that he's been to in the past ye- month, on one hand. On one finger. …did that even count? It had been kind of in another dimension and purely accidental.

This is…more on purpose, but all the same, the teenager looks pretty out of place even when he's not wearing a particular red and white costume. He steps in, looking around like a tourist from way out of town despite dressing pretty casually in jeans and a dark red zip-up hoodie. Backpack slung over his shoulder, he grins a little as his amber eyes sweep the room.

"Soooo retro," he says under his breath. Not that it's a bad thing! Besides, most things in this world are pretty 'retro' to him.

*

"Most of the hardware is free if you use the service. There is a slight fee per transaction but it's easier for our trendy new patrons to use. And we can keep the quaint ol' analog register for the regulars." Owen has put a surprising amount of thought into modernizing the bar.

Checking the napkin, and then glancing over his shoulder at the source of said napkin Owen frowns, "Pass." He crumbles the napkin up and is about to throw it in the basket when he checks his watch. He then sheepishly stuffs the napkin in his pocket. He's only two beers in tonight, who knows what 8 beers Owen thinks of that prospect.

At the arrival of the younger patron he half turns and quirks an eyebrow. He looks around as if expecting someone to claim the younger man. When no one does Owen just turns back to Luke and comments "We shouldn't lose that retro feeling. Even if it makes me feel old." It's not retro! This is what a bar looks like! Grumblegrumble old man thoughts.

*

"Uh huh, that's what I thought." Luke says a bit smugly, either about the number that Owen decides to keep or his actual amount of caring he's putting into his job. Some empties are swept off the bar with his big paw of a hand and stacked into a trash can that's getting a little full already, considering the rush ahead. He makes a mental note to lug it out, but for now he has to deal with an obvious minor in the bar. "Retro? It's cozy. It's comfortable. It's your favorite pair of shoes you don't wanna throw out." This all said to Owen even if he is coming to the end of the bar and stepping out from behind it, a hand moving to drop onto Bart's backpack and give it a little lift. If the kid stays attached, he'll be on tiptoes at best, "Whatever you're running, kid, not in my bar." Says the man used to dealing with streets thugs.

*

"Oh, I wasn't saying it was a bad thing!" Bart says easily, grinning as he glances towards Owen and then the larger man that comes around the bar. "It's pretty cool. And I get cozy and comfortable." He pauses as though considering the shoes analogy, then glances up at Luke.

And then he blinks and does indeed tippy-toe, blinking. "I'm not running, I'm standing," he says, looking a bit confused, and not at all alarmed by being nearly dangled by his pack. Is this guy a bouncer? But bouncers don't stay behind bars, do they?

Picking up his grin again, Bart thumbs back towards the window somewhere behind him. "Said 'help wanted.' Thought I'd check it out."

*

It should be noted that Owen, looks exactly like he did on the rooftop as Boomerang. He doesn't even wear a mask so besides not having the fancy tactical specs on, he's pretty easily recognizable.

As Luke approaches and tries to set the record straight about what is or is not allowed, ie running scams, schemes, etc. Owen snorts a bit. "He's harmless", Owen would know. This kid doesn't look like he would recognize a scam, let alone be able to run one. Owen would know.

When the kid indicates the reason for his being there however Owen smirks. "What are you twelve..?" He then realizes that he doesn't actually own the bar, nor in anyway have a say about hiring people, so he turns back to his phone to … glare at it angrily? He appears more than a bit perturbed at the last message and shoves it into his pocket with an angry humphf.

*

Luke gives the backpack a little waggle, letting the movement telegraph downward to give Bart a bit of an innocent shake as if he can throttle out any lies the kid may be giving. Help wanted he says. "No drugs?" Luke asks, but he seems to already be convinced the answer is negative, helped along when Owen claims he's harmless. The pack gets released. "Go sit next to my man over there." The big guy is muttering and shaking his head as he moves back behind the bar, stopping to fill a glass with ice and hit up the soda gun. A cola is there to meet Bart if he decides to take the vacant stool and one of the single serving bags of chips they sell to regulars to soak up the alcohol. "You two know each other?"

*

There might have been the slightest widening of his eyes, but Bart, being easily distracted instantly focuses upon the closer of the two. It's when Owen speaks up again that the teenager looks back over, brow furrowing, although at that point it might be misunderstood for simply being annoyed at the age insult. Except it might also be because of it. Or should he even be insulted? Technically that's still twice his real age, but since people around here don't usually have a super fast metabolism and have to be raised in VR, that's not exactly a detail he's supposed to be sharing.

"Eighteen," he huffs, which totally sells it. Really. He tries to keep his feet under him when Luke shakes him down, tugging on the straps of his backpack to get it back into a comfortable position once he's released. Half expecting to be told to leave, Bart perks up as Luke tells him to sit, grinning as he makes his way over to hop onto a stool. There's a slightly cautious look cast towards Owen once he's there, but what was that about distractions- oh look, glass o' cola and a side of chips? Yes please!

"Sweet, thanks!" he chirps, settling as he pulls the glass towards him. Looking from Luke to Owen out of the corner of his eye, Bart shakes his head. "Nnnope," he says as he takes a sip of his drink. It's not. Entirely a lie? Owen never gave his name, just yelled at him. Lots.

*

It's not that Owen is perpetually in a sour mood, but he is certainly easy to annoy. Just try to help him, give him something or generally be nice. It's infuriating. And of course chipper teenagers that are enthusiastic about a soda instantly annoy him.

He side-eyes the young man at Luke's question. "Nope." He has no idea who Bart is, really. He does move some of his stuff, folding up binders, packing away laptops, pulling the beer closer. He drains the glass and hops up, moving behind the bar to get another.

At Bart's denial, Owen narrows his eyes a bit at him. That sounded suspicious, but Owen doesn't have a clue who the kid is. He lets it slide for now and instead quips to Luke "I try to upgrade your system and you interview my replacement in front of me. Nice Luke."

*

"He's eighteen." Luke says flatly to Owen, following the other man with his eyes as Owen comes around to serve his own beer. Thankfully the others recognize Owen as an off-duty employee, because Luke might have a REAL problem with others getting it into their head they can do the same thing. And it's not like Luke even charges Owen for the beer, but should he get the idea to start reaching for the top shelf, that'll quickly change.

"He's not coming /near/ to serving customers until he can drink the stuff himself. If you don't know him then how did you know he's harmless? The innocent looking ones are the kind they recruit first, less likely to get stopped by the cops." Never mind that Luke is having an entire conversation /about/ Bart without actually talking to him.

*

Bart pointedly looks back at his freshly acquired snacks. He will never turn down snacks. Hopefully that crunching of chips won't add to Owen's list of pet peeves, but if Bart hadn't already written him off as a grouch from their real first encounter, then he still wouldn't be surprised now.

"So you work here?" he asks, at least remembering to finish whatever's in his mouth before he speaks. It's something of a relief that it seems like Luke's the one in charge, so the teenager easily switches his attention over after downing another swallow of cola. "I-" Am not being spoken to. He looks between the two, frowning a bit. "Hey. I'm like. Right here."

*

Eyeing Luke as he appears to not get the joke, Owen gives him a shrug. At the question about how he knew, Owen glances back over at the kid. "Him? Come on… he looks as dangerous as a glass of milk." Owen has more reasons, but he doesn't feel like getting into a 'who's got more street smarts' fight with his boss right about now, so he chooses insults instead.

"Just for a barback then?" It's a serious question to Luke.

When Bart tries to get their attention, Owen looks over and nods "Yes. You are. You ever worked in a bar kid? Or.. anywhere?" Now that his beer is done being poured, and topped off, Owen still stays behind the bar. Did Luke ask for help interviewing? No. Is Owen kind of nosy and obnoxious enough to not care? Yes.

*

There is a lift of Luke's shoulder in a half of a shrug at the question about a barback, his eyes shifting to the full trashcan in a sort of, 'do you want to haul this shit out during peak hours' kind of drift. Cage doesn't actually seem to mind the assist when it comes interviewing, because vetting the kid is probably better than just adopting him as he's want to do on occasion in his effort to keep kids clean and off the streets if they haven't already been tainted by Harlem. "Start with a name." It's more of a suggestion to Bart than it is Owen.

*

Watching this game of verbal paddleball, Bart taps his fingers against the counter before sneaking another chip into his mouth. To Owen, he starts to shake his head before hesitating at the addendum. His eyes swing back towards Luke, not missing the meaningful look towards the trash.

"Yeah, I've worked before. Deliveries. Errand…running." Maybe he should have asked Tim for pointers when it came to interviews. At the very least, the kid's not nervous? That's usually never a problem.

"Name's Bart. Bart Allen."

*

Catching Luke's look over at the empties, Owen pulls a face and gives his boss a small shake of his head, no he would not like to do that. Taking a big sip of his beer, Owen listens to the young man extensively detail his background, heh. He is at least satisfied that he has done something.

"Okay Bart. I'm Owen, this is Luke as in /Luke's/." He follows up with "You realize this would be an actual job though? Yes? Showing up at a set time. Doing what Luke asks nicely and I yell irately at you to do?" Well, it's true Owen's the jerk and Luke's the big softie despite appearances, so may as well make that clear. "The pay is garbage and the hours suck." Yay?

After another sip of beer though Owen does ammend, "But, work a while in a bar and eventually you can get a bartending gig which doesn't suck. And occasionally drunk hot girls throw themselves at you, which is fuckin' great." Owen has a very particular view of working in a bar. It's probably best Luke cut him off before he scares off the kid.

*

Luke slips out a sleek looking phone, not the type you just get off the shelf at a local cellular store. He thumbs at it, "Smile, Bart Allen." It's the only warning that Bart gets that Luke's about the snap a photo, that and sudden flash that lights up the room momentarily. "I'll send this to Jess, have her run a quick background check." Which likely means Owen Mercer was subject to the same on his employment, if that's Luke's first instinct. "You'll be in charge of hauling ice, restocking the bar, shucking out the trash. The pay is /fair/ and the hours …yeah, the hours suck." But it's a bar. "Tell him the rules." Because Luke is busy texting.

*

"Oh cool, place after your own name. Nice'ta meet you Luke. Owen." He'll remember that. Although Owen does get a strange look as he gives his version of the basic rundown of the job. "That sounds like what most jobs tend to be, right? Be on time, get yelled at, etcetera, etcetera…" All about working your way up or something. Not that Bart's had any aspirations to be a bartender but he supposes it'll be good to have something on the mundane resume thing. Because he's a Normal Person that doesn't run across several states every day as a daily commute.

Luke's warning while abrupt is apparently enough as Bart smiles almost out of reflex. Sorry, no embarrassing drivers license photos here! "Jess?" he echoes, but he doesn't seem terribly concerned about a background check. There's absolutely nothing about him being from the Thirtieth Century and everything that goes with it. Just some kid who grew up in Manchester, Alabama.

"Hauling, restocking, garbage- got it. Fair pay is nice. Hours, well, I can swing it. Anything else?" he asks, beaming.

*

Glancing over at Luke, Owen is not surprised that this concludes the interview portion. After all Luke maybe asked him a total of one question before hiring him. Owen sets down his beer to use both his hands to explain the rules. He pops up five fingers on one hand, "Number one. This is Luke's baby, don't let shit get broken. Number two, fight starts, it goes outside. You.." He looks Bart up and down "… Luke or I will handle that, but let us know if trouble's brewin. Number three, don't bring your drama here, it stays outside."

Pausing for a moment to make sure that Bart is paying attention and following him, Owen then continues "Don't steal and don't lie." Yea so maybe there's more but Owen is already bored and out of fingers.

At Bart's questions about that's what normal jobs are Owen helpfully adds "You'd be surprised how many people aren't prepared for those types of expectations kid. Good for you if you are, plenty ain't." Including Owen not that long ago, and especially Owen at eighteen. Woo boy.

Heading out from behind the bar Owen asks, "You smoke kid?" on his way towards the front door. He expects not, but in his own way, it's considerate to ask.

*

During the course of several quick texts, Luke has cracked a smile, even if it's a subtle one. He's shaking his head with a deep rumble of a chuckle as he shoves the phone back into his pocket, having concluded whatever business he was conducting via it. "Jess says we need to start having people fill out actual paperwork. I guess this sort of stuff can't happen with just a handshake anymore. Put that one the list!" Of businesslike upgrades, it seems, as he calls after Owen heading out for a smoke break as his attention turns back to Bart. "You go to school?"

*

Bobbing his head after each finger ticked point that Owen makes, Bart commits these things to memory, nodding an extra few times to the last ones. He's good at keeping an eye out for trouble, he's pretty sure he doesn't have any drama to speak of, and stealing is what he's usually stopping. In that other job that he won't speak of.

"Huh? Oh, nah," he says, shaking his head at the question about smoking as he watches Owen go out. Well, guess he's done? Bart swings his head back towards Luke, smiling crookedly. Personally he doesn't mind the lack of paperwork, but he supposes it probably makes things more legitimate. "Yessir, but it's mostly general ed. kinda stuff for now. Still undecided," he replies. He's pretty good with his schoolwork at least, and Max hasn't been as insistent about him doing things at normal speed since high school, so that helps.

*

With a thumbs up over his head as he walks out Owen registers the request and mentally makes a note to make Luke's a more legit business. He then proceeds outside to ostensibly smoke a cigarette, which he does, but he also pulls out his phone and types something, deletes it, types something, deletes it a few times before shoving it back in his pocket. Finally he opens up another text message and shoots Luke a text. "Later. Meeting that blond at a club.." Yea, it's not exactly true but maybe it will be later. Either way, he doesn't come back into the bar to cleanup or continue the conversation.

*

Luke nods to Bart's answer about school, "Then we'll try and make sure you're scheduled around classes, weekends are when we'll need you the most anyway. Things have gotten busy around here since…" His phone chimes again, and he sort of eagerly dips for it, but he seems less than enthused about the text he actually finds. With an eyeroll, he's leaning over to collect Owen's belongings and drag them behind the bar for safe keeping. "Guess we're going to need things like your address and social and what not, and then once you're vetted with a friend of mine, you can start work. I'm pretty simple like that, I give my trust easily. But if you lose it? You're out. Got it?"

*

Bart arches a brow as Luke pauses to relocate Owen's things before he resumes nodding. "Oh, right. Yeah, got anything I should fill out or should I just write that stuff down..?" he asks, miming with his hand the scribbling of a pen. This getting a job thing is easier than people make it out to be!

"Got it. I won't let you down." He pauses. "Um. So do I call you Luke, or sir or mister Luke or…." Wow, yeah. Mister Luke sounds weird and it's obvious on his face as he even mentions it.

*

"Luke. Just…Luke." Because the rest sounds just WRONG on every which level. "I guess I'm going to have to find some forms for you to fill out, first." Luke smirks, but pulls out a pad of paper and a pen, slapping them down in front of Bart. "For now, just start with scribbling down your name and a number that I can reach you at. We'll get the rest squared away before your first shift. And then take that damn ad out of the window. I can't afford anymore strays."

*

The young Speedster's back to grinning again as Luke passes over pen and paper. "You got it." That'll at least give him time to see if he can use Tim's local address, because still putting down one for Alabama might look highly suspect. He has to remind himself to write his info down at normal speed before he can get to excited. That done, he slides it back before nodding as he slips off the stool to go and get the 'help wanted' sign.

*

Luke turns to pin Bart's information to a cork board, because despite Owen's recent efforts at modernizing the place, some habits die hard. Like having physical information instead of just digital. There are a few rules that Bart didn't get from Owen, mainly because Luke remains merrily unaware of any abilities that Bart may or may not possess. As he takes the sign from Bart, he leans over to impart quietly. "So. Uh." How to broach this subject? "Just so you know I have some new 'friends' that pop in on occasion. And I sort of need it to not be a big deal." Which leaves a lot open to interpretation.

*

Yeah, that's the greatest thing to tell someone with an overactive imagination. Reaching over to snag his glass to finish off his drink, Bart quirks a brow as Luke leans over in an almost conspiratorial manner. "'Friends'? Um." He tilts his head. "…not like law-breakers or anything?" he can't help but ask, his mind already conjuring up images of Owen in his ridiculous boomerang bedecked suit sitting on the corner of a building across from a bank. Which kind of jars with the whole concern that Luke had about him being a drug dealer or something.

*

There is a 'tsch' sound from Luke as he gives Bart a quick up and down. "What do I look like?" Criminal friends. The bar owner almost looks offended. The young man gets a flat lipped expression as Luke moves away for a second to fill an order, and take payment, the ancient register giving that cheerful CHING! as he makes change before wandering back over. "I just meant…" Well, Luke? What did you mean? "Some high profile people stop by from time to time. Tony Stark has single handedly increased business around here by like twenty percent just by being spotted coming through those doors. So."

*

"I didn't think so, but I mean. You put it like that…." Bart shrugs, but as Luke explains himself, he nods. "Oh. I see." Rich, famous people. Sales boost. "Go~tcha." Given the response, at least it doesn't seem like the teenager's the 'big on celebraties' type. No work disruptions for sneak photo ops from him!

*

Part of Luke seems relieved at Bart's lackluster response. The other part wants to grin like some sort of fanboy himself, but the big man plays it cool. "Good. So you'll start off at minimum wage, with getting tipped out at the end of the night depending on how much you help out who ever is bartending. After four weeks, I'll give you a review. And none of your underage friends hanging out in here, alright? I don't need to get popped by the TABC. Any questions?"

*

There's a bit of a moment in consideration, although in Bart's terms of timeframes it's really no longer than a beat. Everyone he knows is older than him in the Tower, and it wasn't like they hung out at bars. Then again he doesn't know what some of them do in their off time. Well, except Tim, but that's because Tim never takes off, even when he says he is. "Yeah, sure. Won't be a problem," he promises, nodding.

Questions? Questions… Um. "Oh- got a dress code or is it just casual whatever?" Looked pretty casual but he just wants to cover his bases.

*

Luke eyes Bart again, co-wearers of the almighty hoodie. "Nah, you're good. Monday morning is trash day, so Sunday night be prepared to break down and haul out boxes." So, whatever he wants to wear that's best for that it seems, is the only suggestion. "Now get out of here, before I start to feel old just looking at your youthful exuberance." 'Exuberance' is a over pronounced, like it's not really in Luke's normal vocabulary repertoire. Neither is repertoire. "I'll call you when your name clears."

*

"Cool." Smiling again, Bart nods. He gulps down the last of his cola before setting it on the counter. The chips…have somehow between then and now disappeared. Not like it was a big helping or anything though, right?

"Thanks a lot, Luke. Can't wait to hear back from you." Literally. Waiting is such a pain but he'll deal, and at least he has things to do in the meantime. Readjusting his backpack again, he pauses before holding a hand out to offer the guy- is that the thing to do, or should he have done that at the beginning? Eh well! -before he'll take his leave.

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