3,101 Miles

[fukensploogin]

I've found my Amy! Thanks Tears!


Tommy: 24 years old, 5'10", curly brown hair and brown eyes, tan and athletic, about 170 lbs. His girlfriend recently moved out, and he now lives alone in a little box of an apartment above a seedy bar. He's a musician, but he pays the bills making coffee drinks at a funky San Francisco neighborhood coffeeshop, near the Haight. Lots of gutterpunks, yuppies, old hippies still all tripped out, musicians, artists, writers, students, bohemians, etc.

Tommy was starting to hate his job. The same old commuters, same crazy beggars harrassing him, same stupid punks who think they're cool but they're just like everyone else...

Then, on a Tuesday morning, she walked in. Natural style, ease of movement, somehow zen. Tommy had never seen her before. It had been her smile that initially cemented her in his mind and made him remember her name (as he had asked for it when she ordered her latte): Amy. That smile had been equal parts shy and lustful. Maybe he was just making shit up, but he had seen her eyes, too, and they betrayed her, as they locked eyes a few times while he was making drinks, pulling espresso shots, steaming milk.

She came in the next day, and smiled gleefully when he greeted her by name. This time they were chatting while he was making her drink.

Tommy was starting to like his job again.

The next day she came by just as he was about to take his half-hour break for lunch.


Amy is 21 years old and is a musician like Tommy, a singer-songwriter-guitarist. She is a West Coaster going to school in Boston, and is in town on her spring break.


3,101 Miles is the distance, via automobile, from San Francisco to Boston.

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/elvenchild03/caasdad.jpg
Amy
21 Years Old
Long dark hair, brown eyes, tan skin
While not the most gifted of musicians, she prides herself in her ability to write well, play well, and sing better than most. She was born in Washington and traveled around a bit in her youth before settling in California with her family. Her parents had encouraged her to go to a good school, and she found one in Massachusetts that met her needs, but now and then she likes to return home when she gets the chance.

She had some friends in San Francisco that she planned to visit, but she was mostly there to see a city that she never had the time to actually get to. She walked into a coffee shop, or at least that's what it seemed to be, and she smiled at the worker at the counter. She glanced at the list of drinks that were available, and she requested a chai latte. She watched him go about making the drink, not saying much at first except giving her name.

Tommy, as she would find out, was into much the same passions as she was. Music was in their blood, although she had more freedom to pursue those dreams than he had. The coffee shop was his way of paying the bills, and she understood why he had felt so crappy when nothing seemed to be pushing the right way.

Anyways, Amy walked in again as she did much the same way: with a smile on her bright face. She was wearing a light t-shirt, with an eagle emblem on the front and a few faded letters on the back. Amy was also wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a small path on her right knee that covered a small tear in the pants.

"Hey." she said with a smile as she sat down. "Going on break?" she asked Tommy as he seemed to be cleaning.

 

[fukensploogin]

"Hi Amy. Yeah, actually, it's almost time for my lunch break." Amy's smile was contagious and made him feel at ease. "Do you want your chai latte?" he asked her, already pouring cold milk into a little steaming pitcher. He stopped pouring and looked at her. When he saw her nodding happily, he poured a little more and then started steaming it. The milk whirled round n round, bubbles bursting a couple times at the beginning, but he expertly whirlpooled the bubbly parts back into the foamy frothiness and soon got it hot enough making the drinks. He turned off the steamwand and wiped it with a rag. He poured some black coffee into a large porcelain mug, and then poured some of thick milkfoam into it, and set it aside for himself. He poured some extra strong chai tea (a few gallons of which they brewed daily specifically for the chai lattes) into another porcelain mug, and then poured the rest of the milk into the tea, leaving a thick layer of silky foam floating on the top.

He brought the mug over to the table at which she was sitting. Tommy set her mug down in front of her. "One chai latte," he said.