Today's Best Suggestion (Starsage)

[Anthony Higgins]

Race was glad Starsage had suggested getting something to eat while they were in Central Park. One, obviously, because he was starting to get hungry. The last thing he'd eaten was the piece of bread from Sister Dominique early that morning. He was even more glad that Starsage had agreed to loan him a few pennies...all he had was two, and that wasn't going to get him much anywhere.

He was also glad because it gave them a chance to start up a new conversation. They had gotten off to a bad start, to say the least, and their conversation had been awkward all the way through, full of silences and touchy subjects. Heading over to Tibby's made it so that they could pick a new topic of conversation, and possibly go somewhere more pleasant from there.

He reached the door to Tibby's and opened it for Starsage, "Ladies first..." he said with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

[Anthony Higgins]

"Why thank youse, kind sir."

"Yeah, yeah..." Race muttered with a smirk, and swung shut the door, in the process narrowly missing hitting a gentleman in the face as he was about to walk in. Race took notice, and held back laughter. It wasn't something he head meant to do, but that's the best kind of joke. He followed Starsage to a table near the center of the restaurant and sat down. He craned his neck to look at the chalkboard menu and see what he could get for four cents.

"So what'll hit the spot today, eh, Starsage?" he asked, deciding on a sandwich and sitting back in his seat. "The greasy, greasier or greasiest?"

[Anthony Higgins]

"Just a hot dog, please."

He shrugged at her. "You ain't gotta tell me. Where're all the waiters? Lousy place. I only come her for the cheap food..." He looked around for a waiter, and for some reason they all seemed preoccupied. He slumped back in his head. "You'se can wait a while, can't ya? Ain't in no rush?" If she was he could yell for someone right away. If not, he wouldn't bother.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Here's your money."

She gave him the two pence. Race thanked her and pocketed it. That brought it up to almost a dime he owed someone or another...boy, he was gonna have to sell better than he was to get enough to pay people off.

[Anthony Higgins]

"Nah, I got time. How bout you?"

Racetrack made a concerned face. "Ahh..." he sighed, looking briefly at his pocket watch. "I dunno...see, I got this appointment at five o'clock, and then a haircut...oh, and I just couldn't forget 'bout that Hamster Fest in Central Park..." He flipped shut his pocket watch and grinned at Starsage. "But I'm thinkin' I can squeeze you in."

"So, tell me abit about yourself?"

"Me?" Race said. "Huh. Well, there ain't much to tell. I'm Italian, I talk too much, I don't eat enough, I throw my money away at the tracks, and I'm lousy at small talk. How 'bout you?" He gave her a slight grin. He never liked talking about himself, mostly because he didn't always know exactly what to say without starting to throw around all kinds of personal stuff. And if there was one thing Race hated, it was people who liked throwing around their problems on other people. Racetrack was no hyprocrite.

[Anthony Higgins]

"Uh, well, I'm American/French, I guess. I love to sing and dance. I make an idiot out of myself half the time. I'm not very good at fightin', but I can play a mean hand of poker."

His eyes seemed to brighten a little at this. "Can ya really?" he said with zeal. "If you ain't bein' a hot air artist or nothin', then I haven't played a good square game in a while..." He'd played games where there was no cheating involved, but that usually involved kids who had no idea how good Race was a poker and he had suckered into playing. Otherwise, he'd played with real card sharks who cheated out of their ears, and Racetrack, being a gentleman, returned the favor.

"Boy, if you ain't kiddin' 'bout bein' good..." He hoped he could find someone who would actually prove a challenge for him, and not cheat their way through a game.

[Anthony Higgins]

((That's awesome. I can't play for my life. ))

"I can. Ya got some cards?"

His day looking up, Racetrack dug into his vest pocket and pulled out a battered deck of cards. "It ain't a full deck. I'm missin' a couple of 'em, but it's good enough. I gotta swipe me a new deck sooner or later..." The cards were all but falling apart: they were bent and folded, some of them waterlogged from several puddle or fountain accidents, the ink running and the edges peeling apart.

He shuffled them quickly and expertly, but with care. "No bettin'? Not how I play, kiddo." He looked around and spotted a bowl of almonds on the vacant table next to theirs. He stood, swiped them, and brought them back to the table. "We play with nuts. Mostly cause I'd only be bettin' your money." He grinned at her. The truth was he only knew how to play games where there was some kind of betting involved, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

"So what's the name of the game? I'm up for anythin'." He shuffled the deck again, giving the six of diamonds a slight tear in the process. Dutifully he made a similar tear in three other cards...he didn't want anything to be too tell-tale of what card he had in his hand.