Giddy
Graeme hadn't slept for more than 2 hours in 3 days...or, so it seemed. There wasn't any real reason for it, he just couldn't sleep. He had been running on nothing but the horrible coffee that they served at the diner, and probably hadn't eaten anything except for french fries. So, he was past the point of exhaustion, and was currently very wound up. The caffeiene wasn't helping.
Bouncing from one room to the other, almost skipping, he followed Dorcas around her apartment and kept talking a mile a minute. "So, you wouldn't believe what this one guy did. He ordered a hamburger, and said he wanted cheese on it, so I presumed he meant american, since for some reason everyone puts that cheese on hamburgers, so I go and get him his burger, and come back, and he was all "I didn't want this kind of cheese!", like I was supposed to know what kind of fucking cheese he wanted on his cow, so then I was like "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know what kind of cheese you wanted", and I almost said "on your cow" because I was thinking it in my head, you know, and-...holy shit, those are two very large spiders." He stopped in his tracks and stared at the two creatures that were crawling around on her counters. His eye twitched a little bit, and he moved closer to them, grinning as he looked back to Cas. "Can I name them?" She quirked a brow at him and stared at the spiders, making a face before she waved a hand. "Do whatever you want." Oh, this was a bad mistake. Graeme laughed and turned back around, leaning over to examine them. "These here spiders are now dubbed Fred and Ethel Mertz." He looked over his shoulder at Dorcas, who was trying not to laugh. "Why Fred and Ethel? Why not Lucy and Ricky?"
"...becaaaause, Lucy has to be red, and Ricky just can't be a spider, because if I named this spider Ricky, I'd expect it to be able to sing Babaloo, and since Spiders can neither sing or dance, I'm saving myself the disappointment."
And that was that.
First Crush
Flustered
Bitchy
"What can I get you today, sir?"
The words rolled off the 16 year old's tounge with a lot less pep than usual. He stood beside the table with his pad and pen, looking down at the doodles he had drawn around the edges while he was on his lunch break a little while ago. It was the day after he ahd gotten home from Hogwarts, and he and Joy had broken up on the train ride home. It was over something stupid, too, as it always was. Now, Graeme wasn't a jealous guy, and he wasn't posessive either, but when his girlfriend flirted with half the Quidditch team, he wasn't exactly going to sit back and say she was just being friendly. When he casually brought this to her attention, she rolled her eyes and told him it wasn't any big deal, and that he was overreacting. And then they started to fight. And then she broke up with him. They seemed to take turns, breaking up with eachother. It was obviously her roll of the dice this time.
"Hmmmm....how are the hamburgers here?"
Graeme raised a brow. "They're hamburgers. They taste the same here as they do everywhere else, only we add another layer of grease to ours to give them that extra something special." The man stared at him with his mouth open, before he frowned. "Well I--...well, what kind of cheese can I have on my hamburger?"
"Well, we have American, Swiss, Provolone and Cheddar, but I don't know which you like. Maybe you'll get Swiss, but you'll secretly want American, Provolone, and Cheddar, and you'll look at American, Provolone, and Cheddar, but then deny that you're looking at them when Swiss asks you, and then you'll get all pissed off, because Swiss doesn't know what he's talking about! He's just overreacting! You just like the look of American, Provolone, and Cheddar, but you wouldn't ever do anything with them, because you're already with Swiss. But Swiss knows he's just as good as any of the other fucking cheese choices that are out there, and that people don't appreciate Swiss cheese as much as they should! So, then you take away Swiss, but he doesn't have another burger to go to, and this pisses him off. So please, sir, tell me which freaking cheese you want on your grease coated burger so I can go into the kitchen and do my God damn job, okay?!"
"...I'll have Cheddar."
"...coming right up."
And after all this, the bastard didn't even leave a tip.
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