Designer, Dinner, Drinks (attn: Meegan)

Connie had pushed all thoughts of work out of her mind as she drove to the Marina. Her plan to aim towards the docks and follow the signs had been a wonderful one; the lack of signs made it not-so.

Windows closed, music loud, Connie grumbled to herself for just a few moments more as she waited the light in front of the Marina's driveway. Red lights and Connie just didn't seem to get along lately.

"How could they not have signs? It's not like someone would want to go looking for the Marina just to blow it up or kidnap a boat, like in Speed 2 or whichever Police Academy that was.. Not to mention this damned red light..."

By the time the red light had changed, she'd vented all her frustrations at the steering wheel.

Pulling into the long arching driveway, she pulled up to the valet parking and slid out of her seat, grabbing the white shawl and a new white leather purse from her seat. Tipping the tall, hulking, wow-he-could-be-a-sailor valet man, she waited for him to pull away before crossing the road and climbing the stairs.

Flipping the shawl over her shoulders, she tucked her purse under her elbow and, reaching for the door, was nearly knocked over by someone wearing a dishwasher's uniform. Looking ahead through the door, a second form came charging out after the first, yelling things in some language she didn't bother to identify.

She stepped inside before the door closed. Adjusting her white, lacy cocktail dress from her hips to get the driving ridges out of her bottom, she strode purposefully to the greetings stand.

She cleared her throat for attention.
"Connie Stone to join Ms. Meegan Masters."

The young blonde greeter checked his book and nodded, then looked up at her finally. His eyes almost popped out as Connie imagined him taking in her legs, waist, then bosom before finally reaching her face. She would have rolled her eyes but his attention was almost flattering, if teenage-hormonally charged. He was probably the son of someone who ran the club.

"Uh, yes, Ms. Stone, Ms. Masters has not arrived yet but you do have a table set aside. Would you care to be escorted to the table, or would you like to wait at the bar?"

Connie pondered briefly, then answered with a smile. "I'll wait at the bar for Ms. Masters, thank you."

The young man showed her in, around an artfully decorated wooden peninsula, to the bar proper. A low roof overhung the counter, but until Connie was about to lean on a stool she hadn't realized it was actually an overturned rowboat, varnished and cleaned up. Memories welled in her mind as she was approached by the bartender. "Seltzer with lime, please, I'm waiting for my companion to join me."

Smiling at the niceties spouted by the short-cropped young female bartender, she glanced around, taking in all the nautical decorations. Somewhat uncomfortable with her behind resting against the edge of the stool - even as tall as she was - she lifted her right foot gently to hook the heel of her white leather heeled shoe on the lowest support. After a moment, she realized that, were Meegan to approach her, she'd likely try to take a step with that foot to turn towards her, and would likely fall on her face or crush the designer beneath her. Instead, she unhooked her heel and rested the ball of her foot on the long brass rail just above the floor. Her hand worried at the small golden ship's wheel necklace dangling just below the hollow of her throat.

When her drink arrived, she sipped lightly from it.

Meegan 18 years ago
Meegan had eaten about half of her soup, and put her spoon down next to the bowl. It was a good question, and she had only one answer.

"I design. I'm not an eclectic artist. If I'm feeling creative I pull out a sketch pad and design clothes. I do it if I'm depressed, happy, on a dead line, board, can't sleep. Any time other artists, sketch or paint or do what ever they do, I design clothes. I do form studies, I make form boards over and over for when I need to think and want my hands busy. I guess I'm just trying to say, designing is my outlet."

She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip.

"What about you? Do you have any creative outlets?"
Connie 18 years ago
Connie nodded as Meegan explained her creative outlet. "I can't quite imagine having just one outlet, but then, from the way you describe it, there seems to be many different facets to that outlet that I hadn't imagined. I always pictured designing clothes as just drawing something that looks pretty on paper and giving it dimensions so it could be cut from cloth and sewed together."

After a thoughtful sip of soup, Connie corrected herself. "Though you do have a point. My own outlet would be photography. I don't care much for photographing people, or at least, don't have a talent for doing it candidly, but if I could find someone to pose for me, I might be able to do it well. I do really enjoy landscape photography, though, as I mentioned with my moon-shots over the city. And I write from time to time, when some goofy poetic rhyme strikes me, I just have to write it down. I'm also looking into a pottery class to spend some time with Nyra out of the house, that could be fun. The last time I created with my hands, I made a little rainbow out of wax on our third date. She's really good with her hands, you know."

Another spoonful of soup made its way to Connie's mouth, then paused. "When she's creating," she amended. She sipped of the still-hot liquid. "And otherwise."

She blushed, then hid her face behind her glass of water momentarily. She smiled at Meegan. "Ever since cameras were invented, they were the only thing I felt comfortable using to feel creative. Finding that elusive sunrise shot, or the sweeping architecture of skyscrapers, or strange little still-lifes of hot dog vendors down on Fourth-and-Broad." Her spoon dipped again for more soup. "I haven't even really shown Nyra my photos... she's never asked me that."
Meegan 18 years ago
"I'd like to see them." Meegan smiled gently at Connie. "If it is something you truly love, I'd be more than happy to turn over my photo studio to you for an afternoon."

She took another sip soup. "You know your photos might be a really good ice breaker for telling Nyra. Sort of start at the most recent and go backwards and when she gets to things in the early part of last century you can tell her how it is that you obtained those photos. You're art could help you greatly there, Connie."
Connie 18 years ago
"That would be great, Meegan, thanks. Maybe take some Mommy-style pictures of Rachyl?" She winked. Tilting her soup bowl away from her, she slowly and carefully attempted to catch up the remains of the wonderful delicacy.

She nearly dropped the bowl back into its saucer when Meegan suggested to use her photographs as an icebreaker. Eyes wide, she considered the possibilities.
"Wow, Meegan, that's an amazingly simple, supremely obvious, and totally brilliant idea! I never thought of that. I probably never -would- have thought of that. That's..." She smiled as ideas floated into her head. "Great!"

Feeling as if she were floating on a cloud, Connie finished the remaining spoonfuls of her soup, the smile never really leaving the edges of her lips.
Meegan 18 years ago
"I'm glad I could help." Meegan finished all but a few spoonfuls of her soup and when she pushed the bowl back just a tad, their waiter magically appeared to take their things away and refresh their wine and water, assuring them that the main course would be out soon. Meegan waved him off and returned her smile back to Connie.

"Do you have them in albums or anything?"
Connie 18 years ago
Connie at least had the good graces to appear embarassed. She shook her head. "No... A lot of them are in sealed boxes in storage in a variety of places... Safety deposit boxes... zip loc bags... A girl has to improvise, you know? Besides, small boxes are easier to cart than albums."

She shrugged. "You learn to travel light sometimes, especially in my situation... but those... well they kind of used to be my life, you know? I knew how to preserve them, but displaying them had never been a real big option."
Meegan 18 years ago
Meegan nodded and thought for a few minutes. "Well if you want to, I would love to help you make a few albums that don't include all of your photos but would span the last hundred years maybe a page or two for every five years or something like that. I have some excellent albums that I use to display photos of each season and year. I just ordered a new case so I have plenty."

She sipped her wine. It would be fun to help Connie put this together for Nyra, and she hoped her friend took her up on the offer.
Connie 18 years ago
Connie nodded enthusiastically. "I do want to, I do! Thank you! It'll just take me a few months to get a decent amount of them shipped to the city." Giggling excitedly, she said, "Maybe even have some of them displayed along side Nyra's art or something. Or... no, never mind, I really don't want to go that public with them. Just have them be a... 'here's who I am' kind of demonstration."

She sipped of her wine. "Could you imagine the look on our girls' faces if we were to say you and I are having another date for what is basically scrapbooking?" She sipped again, then the humor of the comment really struck. Connie laughed quietly, holding her mouth closed, trying not to spit her wine on the table. Sounds as if she were coughing came out, but she was just laughing through her nose until she calmed enough to swallow. Clearing her throat, she winked at Meegan. "It'll be fun though. When you say photos of each season and year, to what do you refer? Designs? Of course, Connie," she admonished herself, "she must mean designs. What else would she take pictures of?" Shaking her head at herself, she sighed. Sipping from her wine, she noted she'd drained it already, and set the empty glass down.

"If at any point you catch me saying something stupid like that, just pull a Bill Engvall on me and say 'here's your sign.'" Connie's impression of Bill was almost perfect, except for her exuberance in swinging her hand in his trademark way... She nudged her now-empty wineglass and set it to wobbling, threatening to fall over. She stopped herself from reaching to steady it, and instead let it settle back to the table in a raucous clatter.

"Yeah. And I'm going to refrain from expansive hand gestures at the dinner table." She hung her head, embarassed again.
Meegan 18 years ago
Meegan chuckled at Connie's self-admonitions, she did that often enough that it amused her to watch someone else do it.

When the glass was knocked Meegan jumped a bit but remained calm enough, after all it was empty.


"Well, I honestly don't know who Bill Engvall is and you are more than welcome to make any hand gestures you want."

She grinned at Connie, and the waiter appeared again with their dinner. Her salad smelled incredible, and she took a moment to just look at it and take in it's aroma.

"I think Rachyl will simply roll her eyes and hand me the glue stick. She does that every time I sit down to make a new album. I have two shots of every piece from each season that goes in the album for the year. They're great for clients to see what we've done and what we can do."

She took a bite of her salad and sighed around the hot tuna and cold greens in her mouth.

"So why accounting. You could do anything and everything you wanted, so why get stuck in a boring office, workplace politics and crappy dress codes?"
Connie 18 years ago
"You know you could also start scanning all your pictures into the computer. Distribute photo-CDs as promotional material."

Connie tried to hide her shock at Meegan's admission, but then not everyone southern was guaranteed to have a sense of humor like her own. "Bill Engvall is a comedian who typically travels with Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy. I never can remember the fourth guy. Blue Collar Comedy. Very funny."

The plate looked full. The grill hash on the fish steak was perfect, the corn looked sweet, the asparagus seemed to have bite to it when she poked a piece with her fork. She picked up her knife in her other hand, and gingerly cut a tiny triangle off one side. Raising the utensil to her mouth, she carefully pulled it from the tines, and chewed it delicately for a moment. It was so tender, juicy... It almost fell apart when she mushed it against her palate with her tongue, but it was still firm, and she needed to chew it. She swallowed, revelling in the bite of the juices, lemon, butter. "Wow, that's good. Great. Wow." The term "culinary orgasm" came to mind.

Connie smiled at Meegan's question. She pondered for a moment, using her fork to cut a stalk of asparagus into small round sections.
"I learned early, early on that I have a knack for numbers. I became the number keeper for ... a sailing outfit." She caught Meegan's eye and mouthed "pirate." "Eventually I took over the business but after a few years it became overly trying." She shrugged, the morsel of asparagus paused on the way to her mouth. "Long story for another possibly more private time."

She popped the asparagus into her mouth and chewed it, immensely enjoying the soft crunch of the vegetable. After she swallowed, she continued, "But upon arriving in Nachton, I realized that my skills with numbers were my best options for employment and stability. So that's why I go to Dilbertville every night."
Meegan 17 years ago
"That makes sense. I would just think that having lived as long as you have, that you wouldn't need to work. Ok that's hypocritical of me. I don't need to work either. Never have had to and if I stopped right now I wouldn't have to start again in the future. I like what I do, and my guess is that you like what you do or you wouldn't stay there. Though I think if it were me, I'd just start my own accounting firm or work as a private CPA for a few select clients. I'm not a big fan of Dilbertville.

My offices are one right now and I hate it. I'm trying to find new premises, so that all of my people can have their own offices and not live their lives out in a cube farm."

Meegan took another bite of salad to keep from getting up on her little soap box about office environment and productivity. She was looking into turning the building she had now into three floors of production, thus bringing all of her production under one roof. And then relocating everything else to an office building down town. Though she hadn't really worked out all the logistics yet. She would soon though.
Connie 17 years ago
"You're right, I don't need to work. But it's something to do, and it keeps my mind sharp. My swords, too, but I haven't touched them since the fifties. And it's not so much that I dislike Dilbertville... it can be fun, especially if you read the comic every day. But the gossip! Oh my. I thought people were gossips when I was young -" and, setting down her fork, she flashed a series of fingers at Meegan, one - seven - seven - zero "but office settings are like a breeding ground for it. You could write books upon books, or have television shows..."

She shrugged, smiling, and picked her fork back up. She moved through the remainder of her asparagus before starting in on her corn, alternating with bites of the succulent, tender fish. "Cube farm or not, from what Rachyl tells me of the office, the rest of your employees don't think of it like that, especially with the limits you place on them as far as dress code, decorations and making their desks feel like home."

She sipped of her wine. "Which of course, there aren't any." And another morsel of fish made its way between her lips.
Meegan 17 years ago
"I was told by one well meaning productivity advisor, that if I wasn't so lax with my people and their dress and desks they would work longer and harder. I was way too soft on them and it would cause me to loose them all in the long run." She grinned and took a bite of her salad.

"I've had only one person that couldn't stand the organized chaos, she wasn't with us long. One of the guys I have now, has a big chip about work ethic and standards. He comes to work in freshly pressed suits and ties and his cube is neat as a pin with only pertinent materials in view. He does have a picture of his dog in a small frame on his monitor and that's about it. But he's a good little IT man and it works for him."

More salad and wine went into her mouth before she continued.

"I'm crazy organized to the point of obsessive compulsive. I don't twitch or have conniptions if something is out of place, but I will most likely put it to rights before moving on. Drives Rachyl crazy sometimes, but I can't help it. I've been that way my whole life."
Connie 17 years ago
Connie nodded, swallowing the remainder of her corn. It had been so sweet, with just a hint of spice, and the dressing had given it an interesting twang. "There's something to be said for organized chaos, but sometimes, organized organization is the right way to go. I'm quite like you in that respect. Nyra's the complete opposite, with everything except her art stuff. She's not a slob, not in any sense of the word; rather she's the sort who organizes with a 'here's where it goes for now, and I'll get back to it when I do' mentality. Occasionally, it's frustrating, because she sometimes loses her bras or aprons or extra smocks, paint brushes, any number of things when painting, under dirty smocks or behind paint cans or whatever. It's actually endearing. One of the things I adore about her is her... singlemindedness."

Connie decided she was tired of cutting her fish as she ate. She cut the remaining portion into tiny bite sized pieces and moved her fork to her right hand. She saw a few kernels of corn and a couple slices of asparagus hiding under the corner. "Would you like a piece before I finish it? It's quite good."
Meegan 17 years ago
Meegan smiled and shook her head. She didn't want to mess with the lovely mouth sensations from her own dinner.

"No thanks. Rachyl's not single-minded but she has a much more relaxed way of doing things. She knows that she'll be passing that way again, so she makes a mental note to pick up that thing on the way or move that or whatever. Me I have to stop what I'm doing put the shoe away and then move on. I find it endearing that she'll leave her shoes by the bed on the way to the bathroom, and then take care of them if and when she passes them again. I'll smile shake my head, pick them up and put them away for her. I really hope that never changes."

She smiled wistfully and put another forkful of greens and fish in her mouth and the waiter came and refilled their wine glasses.
Connie 17 years ago
Nodding, Connie finished the remains of her meal. "I imagine that it won't. It might change from shoes to baby toys to kids clothes, over the next few years, but the core of what the two of you have will only grow with that, grow with your family."

A thought crossed Connie's mind, and she was momentarily saddened. "That's one of the few drawbacks I hate about my situation. But I've learned to live with it. I think I'd have made a wonderful mother. If I'd met Nyra then, I would have even offered to carry her baby. But... well.. you know."

She shook her head and cleared her throat, then drowned the knot stuck in her chest with an almost un-lady-like mouthful of wine. "I don't think about the negatives too often. Or really at all. Once in a while they pop up, though, like a bad cough or an aching joint." She smiled at Meegan, sincerity flowing from both her eyes and her words. "I don't regret my life at all."
Meegan 17 years ago
Meegan nodded at Connie and put a final bite of salad into her mouth. The waiter came and took their plates away. He returned very shortly with a carafe of coffee, fine china cups, refills for their wine and a basket of pastries and breads.

"I hope I can say that when I look back on what I've done in my life. I have only one or two regrets right now, and they are not major things. I am sure I will forgive myself of them eventually."
Connie 17 years ago
Connie nodded deferentially to Meegan and smiled at the waiter arriving with refills and treats. "Perhaps someday, when we've become wise enough to worry less, we can share them?"

She smiled at her new friend - well, old acquaintance who had in the last several hours become a friend - and sipped at her wine.

She really was exhilarated to know that she and Meegan had 'hit it off' so well, that the designer wasn't holding her 'origins' against her, or her wish to keep it a secret... for the time being. She knew they'd find time soon to spend together, and that it would be fun!



(( ftb w/ permission of Meegan ))