[And, true to his word, Chilton was found sitting -- gingerly, hoping not to touch too many common surfaces -- at the edge of the community college's campus cafeteria. It wasn't difficult to decipher, with the aid of electronic search engines and maps.]
[Jeff's fashionably late, which is still quite an achievement considering he lives so damn close, but the idea of leaving Chilton in a cafeteria on his own, waiting, had it's own appeal. When he does eventually show, it's with the addition of aviators and a large coffee, seeking out Chilton and dropping cooly into the seat opposite. True to his word, not a single student even spares them a glance.]
This isn't gonna be an under the table shady trade, is it?
Do you mean literally? My hand inching towards presumably your hand, groping its way around the gum-stick underside of this industrial make of a pale, plastic table?
[It was perhaps evident that Jeff's plan had worked; Chilton was irate over being made to wait in this bustling cafeteria, all alone.]
You got a coffee when you knew we were meeting here?
[He glances towards the coffee, considers it, then shrugs a shoulder lazily with perhaps just a hint of amusement hiding behind that overly smug face of his.]
Well, I was running a little early, had time to waste. [So he wasted it all just to be late. You're welcome.]
Look, change of plans. [Time wasting and coffee aside, he's here for a reason and it's not to get bitched at by Chilton. There's a conspiratorial glance left and right before he leans in, elbows on the barely clean college table as he lowers his voice just enough to make it seem like this is top secret information.] I had an... accident while out on a date recently. I'm not really in the mood to play around with this any more. I need some kinda cure, preferably right now.
What kind of accident? Who witnessed it? How did this tie into your emotional state -- and, Jeff, I want to hear about it in precise language.
[Chilton, the stern authoritarian. He was quick to establish the boundaries of their intended conversation. It was easy for him to negotiate, of course -- he was holding hostage the prescription.]
[Uugh, telling the truth is the worst. But if he can't tell the truth to a therapist in the middle of a college cafeteria, where can he?!]
I didn't cope, that's just it! I went off the fucking deep end. I mean, I'm at this top class restaurant. Suit and tie, ridiculously over priced menu, wine way over market value, good looking lady to spend my night with. It's flattering enough already, and then the compliments start rolling in and the appreciative glances from other women and... Yeah.
[A heavy swig of coffee like he's really wishing it was alcohol right now.] I flipped. Ruined a perfectly good suit too, not to mention trashed half the restaurant. It's only thanks to my date that I don't owe thousands in damage. This thing seems worse here than it was back home. If I take anti-anxietys here? I'm just gonna flip at every flirtatious glance. I need something that's gonna make me feel like I'm not the best person on this planet, which is going to be really difficult considering I am.
[And just maybe that's why he's shown up in sunglasses today, like they'll somehow give extra protection against all this. He can hide behind shades. They make him feel just that little bit more guarded.]
I'd drop in, but you might have company. Actually, that wouldn't usually bother me, but apparently most people have a problem with it. Besides, I have a proposal for you.
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