2010-02-22: Drinking Buddies


Angelo_icon.jpg Doc_icon.jpg

Summary: Two

Date: February 22, 2010

Log Title Drinking Buddies

Rating: PG-13

NYC - Nowhere

Nowhere is a community bar, with a slightly old world feel. All of the tables and chairs are made of wood, though there are some couches in a slightly offset room with green fabric. The music varies, depending upon the Owner's music taste for the day. Beer and Liquor are both served, but are both carded for as well.

At the front of the bar, right as one walks in,is a large sign. "Superhuman friendly establishment. There will be no tolerance for disparaging remarks based on one's genetic status. Any fights will not be tolerated within the bar. The management holds no responsibility for where combatants are teleported."

The hour: 12:30AM on the 22nd of February

His first Sunday shift is over, and Ange diLucci has decided to just visit a bar to get something to drink. It's not like he's going to get plastered after all. And this place is new, but it's where he used to go with a couple guys to start the week right, back in med school days. Man, that was insane times. At the ancient age of 28, Angelo looks back and mutters, "That was crazy. How did I ever pass my writtens?"
He has a pint of Guinness before him, and he's sitting at a table near the bar.

Doc has been here before, back in the 'good ol' days', when the real doctors thought you were stupid and they were always trying to weed out all the individuals that weren't worth the money they spent to keep them there. It was pretty much their secondary job. So, needless to say, Doc has come here because.. well.. he needed to get out of the mansion. What with it being after midnight, Doc has found his way down to Nowhere, and he makes his way inside. He keeps his jacket on for the moment, since it's freezing outside and he's still got to warm up, before he heads for the bar. He doesn't initially recognize anyone he turns his gaze over, and so he moves to seat himself at the bar. "Can I get a pint of Guinness?" Seems Doc and Angelo had similar taste, and old habits die hard.

Angelo hears a familiar voice. Hasn't been f'ing forever or anything HAS it now.
"Hey, DOC!" he says, in a somewhat boisterous tone. Angelo is still the same 5'5" but instead of being a short fireplug he's turned into something of a short wall, must have been LIVING in the gym. And maybe taken several cycles of something not legal, except he doesn't look like he's got any of the problems too much growth hormone or other drugs will cause.
But all that aside, he's about 12 feet away, and has an empty chair at his table, that he's gesturing to.

When you're a doctor, it's a whirlwind of faces and people that he needs to memorize, and that's only more-so now that he's working at Xavier's. Doc jumps slightly when he hears his name, and he turns his head immediately. That voice sounds familiar.. aha! "Hey!" He laughs, plucking up his beer when it arrives, slipping off the bar stool in favor of moving to take the gestured empty chair. "Been a long time, Ange. Never thought I'd see you here. How've you been, man?" He inquires with a genuine smile, offering the man a hand to shake before he sits down.

Ange grins. "I got my PA after you took off for your first residency thing, if memory serves. You been doing good? You a doctor in title as well as name, now?"
Not waiting for an answer, he goes on, "I was working at a clinic not far from here, but the freakin' demons tore the building down." Ange seems to have cleaned up his language a little. It used to be sailor-worthy. "SO I just got hired at a new place. My roomie was depressed, she's gonna have to find a new one. What you up to?"

"Yeah, it's an interesting combination. Most people don't believe me," Doc grins a bit back at him. "She?" He quirks an eyebrow, smirking a little. "Barely got out of residency and I got hired to work as primary physician at a private school," he offers. "It's been pretty interesting. I figured private schools would be a little less dramatic, but I was wrong." He leans back, taking a sip of his beer. "Good to see that you're doing all right. Sorry I had to leave, but my residency offer was just too good to pass up. Besides, I'm back now, so.." He chuckles. "Remind me to give you my cellphone number."

Angelo does the theatrical 'woe is me' face.
"Howcome nobody believes me dat I could have a goil roomie an' not be sleepin wit' 'er?" … the muscle-head fake accent has improved, Ange must've been practicing it a lot.
He shrugs expressively, "I knew y'was leaving for a good reason, man. So, yeah, here's my cell too."
Prepared to a fault, this guy always was. He has a business card.

Angelo diLucci, M.S., P.A.
Barnes Academy
cell 555 555 5555
Twitter @NoHalo.

No IM chats though.

Doc chuckles a bit and takes another sip of his beer. He leans over to pick up the card and he quirks an eyebrow. "How'd you get business cards before I did?" He teases, looking it over slowly. "Barnes Academy. Never heard of it," he sips his drink again, the drink held firmly in the other hand. He finally pockets the card, and nods a bit at him. "Fancy stuff. Pretty soon you're going to have a limo with a hot tub in the back, right?" He grins playfully, before pulling out a slip of paper and a pen - always prepared with a pen, he is - and he writes down the cellphone number, pushing it towards his friend. "There y'go. Fair is fair."

Angelo shrugs, "It's a new place, I never heard of it til I got a letter askin' me to interview. Referred by a friend, I guess. Private boarding school, pretty strict but fair. I'll like it I think."
He laughs about the limo thing. "What would I do with a hot tub, man, you know I don't float. I'd drown! No, I printed these off myself, they do it right there in the office, only make up as many as you need, works great. You gotta move into this century, Doc. Can't keep doin' that horse-an-buggy medicine any more." He grins and sips down about a third of his pint, since it's settled well.

Doc rolls his eyes, chuckling a little. "Horse and buggy medicine? C'mon, you know I'm better than that," he smirks. "I'll get some business cards printed up JUST for you." A pause. "Ah, you'd be fine. Hot tubs are shallow. Unless you're good at drowning yourself in puddles," he grins again. Another swig of his beer, before he nods. "Yeah, I'd never heard about my place, either, 'til I got a letter in the mail. How ironic." He sips his beer again. "I guess it doesn't matter much, eh? A steady pay check and job security is nice, as far as I'm concerned."

Angelo nods "That and a chance to really USE my skills, y'know? The clinic was good but I learned WAY more than I wanted to about veneral disease. And weird street drugs. Nasty."
He waves a hand to signal a waitron, revealing a faint yellow-white marking, something like words in an almost invisible ink, along where his wrist is exposed, not quite standing out against his chocolate skin. The guy always did keep a tan well. But why would he get a white-ink tattoo?

Doc laughs a bit. "Well, that's what happens when you work at a clinic. That's the sort of stuff you deal with constantly. Drug overdoses, STD's.." He shakes his head slightly. "Not exactly what I signed up to do, so I was happy to get a letter." He chuckles. He does briefly note the tattoo, but.. really, it's not Doc's place to pry. Still, he's curious. He sips his drink again, watching as the waitress wanders over to see what Angelo needed. "Can you get me another Guinness?" May as well make use of the situation. "Nice tattoo. What's it say?" He inquires curiously. "I didn't know you were a tattoo guy."

"And for me," Ange says to the waitress. "And if you guys have any bar food? Fries or a sandwich or even one of those giant rude pickles."
He shrugs off the coat he's wearing, and pulls up the sleeve of the ridiculously tight microfiber under-armor shirt to reveal his over-muscled left forearm. The tattoo on the inside of the forearm is an ankh, written in a foreign language and alphabet, but it's not really that visible, the white isn't reflective enough.
"I wasn't. It's amazing what can happen when you get too drunk and don't watch your drinks at some of the clubs west of here. Got this and the other three last year, couple days after my birthday." Ange was very sarcastic about his stupidity in losing track of the drink.

"Sure, hamburger sounds good," Doc chuckles a bit. He usually doesn't eat this late, but what the hell, right? He moves to finish off his own beer, listening to him explain, observing as he points it out. "Birthday tattoos. Classic," he laughs a bit at that. "But, really, ankhs.. pretty fitting, considering what we do, right?" He smirks a bit at his friend. "I can't really blame you. At least you didn't get a dolphin or something. You'd've never lived that down."

Angelo laughs again, "Hey, I couldn't do that. That's your mascot. Or was that Ricky?" who was of course, a guy who flunked out after three years and went on to work at Sea World. Maybe it WAS Ricky.
"To long-vanished drinking buddies," he offers, and drains his glass. He looks a bit dizzy for a moment, but when next Doc is looking away for some reason, there's a momentary FLASH as Angelo's tattoos, along with his hair and eyes, light up with their own glow. Just for a second, almost too fast to see. And Ange will be sober again.
"No, the other wrist is a slightly different ankh, then there's an Eye of Ra here on my chest," and he touches just over the sternum, "And I have wings all over my upper back."

"Wasn't my mascot," Doc laughs a bit. He glances away to watch the waitress wander away, before he looks back. Doesn't seem he noticed the flashes. "Eye of Ra, eh? I guess it's better than, say, a target or anything," he grins playfully. He sets his empty mug down, now simply waiting for his next full mug to arrive. "So, is the Egyptian themeing a recent thing, or..?" He quirks an eyebrow slightly, chuckling. "Not to mention, I remember you being less muscular than this. You been hitting the gym?" Doc, of course, hasn't changed much at all in the past few years.

Ange laughs a bit. "You look exactly the same, man. But yeah, I hit the gym pretty hard when I was workin' at the clinic. Cross the street from Steel's Gym, an' without doing anything I was getting a little pudgy and I felt completely puny, ya know?"
Well, for a short guy Angelo hasn't been THAT puny, really, even back in med school. But he always did seem to have this odd thing for wanting to be bigger.
"So after the ink, I started gaining really fast. For some reason."
No, even in a Supers-friendly bar, Ange isn't gonna freak out his normal doctor friend from college with this whole "magical tattoos of living light" thing. That would be just too damn weird.

"Guess you had to be ready for the misguided individuals that would come in looking for money, right?" Doc smirks at him. "Didn't they tell you to just give 'em the free condoms or something?" He teases with a laugh. "Probably just your hormones catching up with you. You got a jolt of growth hormone and grew outward instead of upward. No big deal, I don't think. As long as you're not in pain, healthy and happy, I don't see a problem." He folds his arms across his chest, glancing over when the waitress returns with their drinks. He grabs his, and takes a swig. "So, how's your new place?"

Ange winces, "OH MAN, you wudnt believe some of the guys … There was this one who thought we would help him TEST the condoms. Right there. And the ones who only did chest and nothing else, the skinny skinny little legs, like Johnny Bravo with rainbow flags."
He shakes his head, and takes a sip off his drinks, then the burgers appear, and some standard bar-fries - six inches long, cooked but limp, slightly greasy, and served with mayo and ketchup. For some reason this cracks him up.

Doc laughs when he hears the stories, nodding slightly. "We didn't get that. More normal stuff at the real hospital," he smirks at him playfully. He quirks an eyebrow at the laughing, plucking up his burger, and taking a bite. "What's so funny? Reminding you of the condoms or something?" He teases, taking another bite, before setting it down to wash down what he'd eaten with some beer. "So, tell me about Barnes. Is that a private school, too?"

Angelo finally recovers, controlling his breathing, and grins. He lifts up one of the fries, and it just schlumps over. "Yeah, exactly."
Hm. Barnes. That's a sobering one. "Yeah, I just started there, so I don't know much about the place other than the usual. Private boarding military style school, which doesn't really thrill me, but hey, I did OK in the year when Mom had me in one. Until she got there and found out what it was."
That brings back the grin. "So what's normal at a real hospital, I mean, I remember taking in some truly odd shit when I was driving ambulance."

"Thought so," Doc chuckles, leaning a hand over to pluck up one of the fries from Angelo's plate, taking a bite of it. "Military, eh? I don't recall you saying you had military training.. I'm a bit surprised at that, to be totally honest with you," he smiles warily. "You have a rank or anything?" He tilts his head slightly. "Well.." He pauses. "Normal as in like.. people actually in real trouble, not simply looking for a perscription for oxycotin."

Ange protests, "Nonono. It was just a military school, not joining the actual military. I couldn't handle that. I'm a pacifist. And at Barnes, my job is to keep everyone healthy. I have a supervisor, but he's running a couple places, you know how that goes."
He makes a face at the idea of people looking for codeine and such. "Yeah, we did have some of that normal stuff, most of it even, at the clinic. I mean, we had the AIDS drug dispensary, that's the part that I regret the most, the place being taken down."
He takes a long drink off his Guinness at that.

"Well, whatever helps pay the bills," Doc chuckles at that, leaning back in his chair, taking a swig of his newer Guinness. "Well, it could be worse, I guess." He smiles. "You can rebuild something that someone takes down. Maybe someday in the future, when you're old and have a excess of money, you can open your own clinic," he grins a bit. "Wouldn't suggest it now, what with you working. How much free time do you have now? Can't imagine much, 'cept at night."

Angelo shrugs, "Yeah. I still think I'll try to go back for that last … I just can't get my head around the whole advanced chem/bio stuff, past a certain point. But hey, I did fine except for that stuff."
Angelo has a long-standing hate for that one last thing that would let him go for a real doctorate of medicine. Still, apparently. He finishes off his burger, though. And he's nearly out of Guinness again. And this diet CANNOT be how he keeps that disgustingly low bodyfat.
"I have… enough, really. My days are pretty much gonna be used up, but evenings and afternoons except on days when I'm on call. Today was a part-day. Worked noon to nine."

"I'm sure you'll manage. You're a bright guy, you just had a bit of trouble there," Doc offers with a sympathetic look. Of course, who is he to talk? Doc knew that stuff even BEFORE he got into med school, not that he'd ever admit it to someone as frustrated about his position as Angelo is, friend or not. "Not bad hours, really. I'm pretty much on-call twenty four seven at the private school I'm working at, but.. it's usually not too busy. So I'm lucky, I guess. Makes me antsy sometimes, though."

Ange nods, "Yeah, I think I'm gonna have that same problem, in time. Just staffing up, we're gonna have our first wave of students coming in any time, and if I remember it, there'll be a never-ending stream of broken this and scraped that. And the "eating rat poison on a dare" cases, I hope NOT to see."
Clearly he's thought, or brooded, on this topic before coming in tonight.
"I already have issues with one of the older students. Allergic to almost everything I know about. If he ever gets hurt, I'm not gonna be able to do much for him."

"Oh, jeez. Well, if they're going to be that thick headed, you've got my condolences. I mean, that's probably a bit more exciting than my place. No military at my school.. so it's a bit.. well.." Doc muses, leaning back. ".. more lax. Luckily, no-one's eaten rat poison or asked what VD is yet, so I think I'm in the clear," he grins playfully. "Most of the students seem smart enough, but they're definitely not impervious to drama.. I'm sure you'll get plenty of that at Barnes."

"Someone allergic to almost everything? No way," Doc shakes his head slowly. "How bad is he allergic? Deathly, or.. just hives breaking out?" He quirks an eyebrow. "You run allergy tests on him yet?"

Angelo shakes his head, "Nah, just to the main stuff I have access to. It's not my case anyway, he's got a specialist on tap. I just met him today and learned about this. It's just, y'know, the unaccountable fear that if something does happen I won't be able to help in time. I can't say anything, really, about the details I have seen. HIPAA."
Ange shrugs apologetically. The bane of all casual medical chat. Cannot attach names to anything. Cannot reveal details that might reveal names.

"Even to the hypo-allergenic stuff, eh?" Doc shakes his head slowly. "I don't envy you, to be honest," he chuckles. "I understand, though. No problem. I have a good idea of what you have to go through," he chuckles. "Anyway, let's not worry so much about work. We haven't seen each other in ages. We should drive around sometime and pick up chicks. I bet they'll like us even more now that we're not med students." He grins.

Angelo laughs. "Yeah, I know, but I don't got a car, and the chicks you find drivin' around here at night? They charge for it."
No longer college students either, which would make it even weirder. Ange would talk about some of the places he goes, but, he has reasons for being pretty much celibate since he got the ink. Lighting up during sex is not something that involves tobacco for Mrs. deLucci's son.

Doc chuckles at that. "Fair enough. I was thinking of a night club or something, but hey," he shrugs his shoulders helplessly. "I guess I'll just wait a little longer 'til I find someone who wants to check out the women where they don't charge," he grins playfully. "I suppose I shouldn't, though, so maybe it's for the best." He takes another swig of his beer. "When's the next time you're gonna be here?"

Ange shrugs, pulls his shirt sleeve back where it belongs and (while his coat is being pulled on over his head, there's a quick flash of light, detox again, damn Guinness and their good beer!) he pulls out his cellphone. Checks what it says. "Got Wednesday and both weekend nights off, next two weeks. Unless something comes up."

"How about Wednesday, then? Same time, same place?" Doc chuckles, slowly moving to a stand. Not one to waste good food or beer, he chugs down the rest of the beer and plucks up the half-eaten burger. May as well eat it on the way 'home'. "I should be heading back, anyway. You know how I am," he smirks. "Nights make me uneasy."

Angelo nods. "Yeah, the vamps come out, and the goths to feed on them, and then the carnage in the streets."
He drops some cash on the table to cover the bill. The part that hasn't already been paid anyway, if they take money for the drinks as they are delivered.
"Next time you're buying."

"Well, just that the worst things tend to happen at night. You've worked the night shift, you know how that is," Doc smiles warily, before he nods. "Sure, I'll pay next time. Just so long as you don't order the steak," he grins a bit, before he turns to head for the door. "See you Wednesday, Ange. Keep in touch."

"You too, Doc." Ange grins and waits for the Doc to go, before he heads around back to light up his wings. Flying back home, much faster than public transportation this time of night.

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