Bean Scene Cafe
Bean Scene is a small coffee shop and cafe that caters primarily to a younger crowd. The cafe has always been at least a year late in joining any given fad, and in the past it's been done in western-style, set up as a beatnik hangout, a go-go disco, a fern bar, and once even attempted to cash in on breakdancing. A plaque has recently been placed above the door, and says, "No fad is dead until it appears to Bean Scene".
Case in point, the cafe has a grungy feel to it.A grey brick facade has been placed over the walls, the flooring looking more like a worn down metal grid, complete with old sewer grates every few feet. Tables and chairs set about the cafe are quite casual in appearance, made of metal meant to look rusty and splattered with multi-colored paints. Metal street signs hang from the wall amid images of garage bands. Behind the counter is a black chalkboard displaying the available items and costs.
Characters
After a long day of dealing with horses, cows and goats Trevor can be found sitting at one of the booths sipping at a cup of coffee. Luckily for everyone here he did get a shower and change of clothing before coming to get said coffee. Upon the table before him rests a stack of charts from the animals he was seeing through out the day as he is busily working on writing them up before truly forgetting anything. There are a few other people around the shop, some talking and drinking coffee others on there own reading or even doing homework it would seem.
~
Rachel knows squat about horses. Or cows. Or goats, for that matter. Except that they all belong in a barnyard. Or something like that. And she doesn't frequent barnyards. At least, not often. Not without a damned good reason, anyway. And God knows she's yet to come across one since she moved to Dallas — no matter how lucrative the cattle business is purported to be. In any case, that's the farthest thing from her mind, at this point. She pushes her way into the Bean, the glass door swinging heavily open as she slips past it. A lopsided smile appears on her lips as she recognizes the wannabe-trash style of the place. Someone went to a lot of trouble to try and make the place look all northern hip. She can't say it really captures the urban feel of The City she calls home (Dallas isn't really home, yet), but it tickles her funny bone, nonetheless. She waits her turn in line, ultimately ordering nothing so spectacular as a regular cuppa joe, before she places a couple of dollar bills on the counter, picks the paper cup up in a practiced pinch, and turns to survey just where might be the best spot to set down.
~
Trevor taps his pen against the table a few times while glancing over the chart he is working on. A faint hum escapes him before he closes the chart and then pulls up another one and opens it and then starts to sip at his cup of coffee once more. A slight glance is sent towards the opening of a door and he curiously watches Rachel but that's about it before he offers a slight smile and nod friendly like before he goes back to looking over the chart.
~
Rachel sizes up the room pretty quick. She notes Trevor's fleeting attention, returning his brief smile and nod with something similar of her own. The place is fairly busy, really. Finding a seat won't necessarily be all that easy. But, she's a trooper. She slides between bodies, angling for an open spot along the window, not so far from where the vet has set himself up. Accidentally, as a young child goes wiggling past her, she bumps his arm as he's writing. "'Scuse me," she apologizes quickly to him, giving a second nod, reaching out with a foot to snag the chair at the table she wants only a heartbeat before a couple of teens do. "Mine," she tells them, flashing teeth. Sure, it's a smile. But her attitude says she'll fight if she has to. And, as they back down, she adds, "Thanks."
~
Trevor hums faintly and glances to the kid and chuckles softly. "Its alright.. Don't worry about it." Is said with a soft tone before glancing over towards where Rachel is once more and offers another nod to her. "Your welcome to sit here if you like." Though by the time he says this she is already 'fighting' to claim a seat it seems.
~
"Thanks," Rachel echoes again, giving the vet a lopsided smile as she pulls the seat beneath her and settles her cup on the table. They're still within comfortable conversation distance. "But, after all that? I oughta make the most of the victory while I've got it." It never lasts, after all. She picks up her cup and takes a sip. There's a critical moment as she decides whether or not this place makes decent coffee or not. Her nose wrinkles with the consideration. In the end, she gives a shrug and swallows, deciding it'll do. She sets the cup back down and gestures with her chin towards his stack. "Office being fumigated?" Hey, when she was in New York, it was a legitimate question in some parts of town. It's as good an excuse as any for sitting doing work in a coffee shop.
~
Trevor chuckles once more and nods. "Well that is true.." He says with an amused tone while leaning back in the seat slightly. The pen setting upon the chart while his hand rests against his cup of coffee. A faint hum escapes him and a glance is sent towards the stack of charts before a slight shake of his head is seen. "No, just wanted a different place to write down my notes from over the day."
~
Rachel lets out a soft 'ah', and nods again, leaning back in her chair as she smiles. "Change of scenery's a good thing," she says, reaching for that coffee cup again. "Often helps put things in perspective." Her eyes flit to the charts, noting the form of them, if not the content. Her head cants. A brow arches "Doctor?" It's just a guess. Though it does strike her as a little odd. Most medical people she knows rarely take patient files out of the clinic.
~
Trevor ahs softly and grins a moment. "Well yes.. Thought of the animal world." He offers while shrugging a moment. "An a change of scenery is always a good thing." "I'm a large animal vet mostly, don't have a clinic. I drive to the farms an so forth."
~
"Ah," Rachel says again, understanding now. "Right. That makes sense, then," she concedes. "I'm a psychologist, myself, though I'm no clinician, either. I'm more of a consultant." Though not in private practice, for all she doesn't say it. Doesn't feel the need to. "Just thought I recognized the general structure of the forms, is all. Med forms are med forms, no matter who they're for."
~
Trevor smiles a moment and nods while tilting his head. "That is very true." He says with an amused tone. "A psychologist, that must be a interesting field." This said while he watches the other.
~
Rachel nods, her expression relaxed and easy. "Oh, it can be," she says with a mild shrug. Her hand flips lightly towards him. "Still, I expect you have fun with what you do. I don't know much about veterinary medicine, myself, but I've heard it said vets have it twice as hard as physicians. After all, your patients can't just tell you what's wrong. Am I right?"
~
Trevor seems amused at that. "Oh yes.. It can be rather hard, especially when trying to work on a thousand pound animal that doesn't want to work with you." His had a few steer that had there own mind after all. "Well I think its harder, we have to know different things for different species. I work with dogs and cats sometimes and that is a large jump from working on horses even."
~
Again, Rachel nods. "Oh, I expect so," she says swiftly enough, twisting some in her chair as she reaches once more for her coffee cup. The woman doesn't seem to go more than a sentence or two without at least a small sip. "I had a cat once, as a kid. We never really had dogs. Dad liked dogs better than cats, but he didn't want to be the one always taking care of it, and Mom preferred cats. So, we had cat. Brown tabby with attitude named Scarsdale. Thought he ruled the neighborhood. He just may well have, too."
~
Trevor hums softly and nods at this. "Well I have to say that cats make better pets then dogs to some degree." Though he may be biased on that account seeing how he tends to be a feline shifter after all. "Though nothing is at all wrong with dogs. Cats just tend to do there own thing and works out when one has a busy life style."
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Rachel gives an easy nod to that. "Yeah, that's what I like about cats; they're independent like that. But, I guess it depends on your personality. What's it they say? Dogs have masters; cats have staff." She chuckles now, amused some with that idea. Certainly, it's been her experience.
~
Trevor chuckles and grins. "Well that is true.. Cats like being the boss. At least all the cat's I've had tend to act that way." Though it could have something to deal with him being a shifter and the other cat wanting to be top cat around the house too.
~
It may have something to do with that, true. For Rachel, however, shifters are still pretty much an unknown quantity. Certainly, she wouldn't know one if she saw one. Not unless something about them smacked her across the back of the head with a psychic 2x4. And, so far, that hasn't happened. "Well, Scar certainly thought he was the boss," she admits. "And Mom's new cat, Priss, is every inch the queen. I suppose it's just in their DNA."
~
Trevor ahs softly a slight nod is seen. "Female cats tend to be even more so like that I've found. Calicos and tortie colored ones tend to be very queen like and then want to rip you apart in the next. Its just a feline trait I'm thinking."
~
Rachel shrugs, but smiles. At least, the man was wise enough to suggest it was a feline trait and not a female trait. Not, mind, that Rachel'd be much of the sort to jump all over that type of comment. "I've never liked calicos," she admits. "But, that's probably because the only one I ever met belonged to a friend of mine… and she was more of the rip-you-apart variety." Again, that casual shrug; a sip of her coffee. "We only ever had tabbies."
~
Trevor would never say its a female treat, he does have some common sense here. "I'm more of a main coon fan myself. Big fluffy cats." A soft chuckle escapes him. "Yes many calicos are of the rip-you-apart type." He nods a moment. "Tabbies aren't bad."
~
Rachel chuckles, now. "They're short-haired; I prefer that." Not such a maine coon fan. "Keeping up with the shedding is hard enough with tabbies, never mind longer haired monsters." Of course, it's been a while since she's had any sort of pet, now that she thinks of it. But, Mom has Priss… who, okay, is, in fact, a long-haired cat. She's a Persian. But, that wasn't Rachel's choice.
Fade scene… (It was late and connections were wonky.)