2011 05 29: Central Park After Dark

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Mission Name: Central Park After Dark
Date of Mission: May 29, 2011
Locale: Central Park - Manhattan, NY

A meeting of strangers leads to a discussion about childhood toys, cartoons, and fears past.

Geoff Jezebel Lance Tamara

Central Park is naturally a hot spot for all sorts of things; human life being one of them. Jez is here wearing her work gear; green t-shirt, black skirt, tights, orange sneakers, and an apron studded with tons of pins/buttons that all have snappy little sayings on them: 'It's been lovely but I have to scream', 'good girl gone bad', 'Don't make your mind up until you have one', etc. She has a large cup of Starbucks coffee in her hand, going against the grain and daring to drink coffee from a known competitor. There's also a cigarette hanging from her lips, though it remains strangely unlit. She scans the park warily and finally moves over to a solitary bench.
You aren't carrying anything.

Dressed in a short little pair of designer jogging shorts and a cropped sports top, Tamara is currently making her way around the running track, jogging at an easy pace as she keeps a close watch on certain aspects of the park itself in the dying light of day. She's not far from Jezebel's bench when she slows for a break, moving off of the track in order to avoid being run over, as she tips back a few mouthfuls of water and then uses the fee edge of the bench in order to tighten up the laces on her stupidly expensive running shoes. Straightening back up, she considers the fading light and checks the time on her cell phone, as she begins to think about calling it a day.

Geoff shows up in his usual casual, uncaring ensemble, hands in his sweatshirt pockets as he slouches his way through the park. He, too, is on the way to Jezebel's bench, but he doesn't even seem to register Tamara, despite the bee-line he's making in their direction. "Excuse me," he says to Jezebel. "Look, I know you don't know me, but could I bum one of those?" He points to the cigarette without bothering to muster a friendly smile despite the distinct Southern twang in his speech.

There's a brief pause from Jezebel when she's approached by Geoff. She nods to him eventually and half-smiles, reaching into the pocket of her apron before she comes up with a pack of Camels and offers them to him. "There's only two left. You can have them if you want. I'm not much of a smoker — I'm still kicking my crack addiction, after all." Jez offers him her Bic lighter too. The Bic bears a design of flames on it. "I'll need the lighter back though." She looks over to Tamara and eyes the woman for a long moment. The blonde is watched like a hawk, even as Jez continues to talk to Geoff. "You act like cigarettes are the weirdest thing I've been asked for in New York."

Tamara arches an eyebrow as she finds herself being eyeballed by the younger woman. Tucking the phone back away, she rolls her shoulders, half in a stretch, half in a shrug. "You'll give cigarettes away, but the bench you're possessive of," she notes with a wry smirk. She doesn't seem terribly affronted or concerned - she's vaguely amused by the whole thing, at best. Her gaze, for the most part, remains on Jez, returning the favour of being watched so closely, although she does spare a considering glance for Geoff.

"Thanks," Geoff says, taking the pack and shaking one cigarette out, holding it between his lips while he pockets the pack with its one last cigarette inside, then flicks the Bic with casual ease, inhaling. After he exhales smoke, he says, "New Yorkers don't like to be talked to by strangers. I don't want to get maced." He looks over at Tamara, lifting an eyebrow without the rest of his face moving much to complete the expression. "Don't you dare make her reconsider the cigarettes, Marathon Barbie," he warns.

Jez grins wryly at Geoff and winks, Southern drawl becoming momentarily more prominent. "No mace here, honey. I do carry a switchblade but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do in terms of self-defense." Sometimes honesty is the best policy. Jez doesn't seem to know when that is. She shakes her head over at the blonde woman and gives a vague shrug of her shoulders. "Sorry, just thought I knew you from somewhere. You look like someone." Jez takes a long sip of her iced coffee and then licks her lips, deigning to take her eyes off of Tamara. She chuckles at Geoff and shakes her head. "You can have the cigs. Like I said, definitely not the weirdest thing I've ever been asked for around these parts…"

"My intention was to make her reconsider the bench, but I'm done with it now, so I suppose the whole thing is moot," Tamara replies to Geoff, only further amused by his warning - and the nickname she's earned. Her gaze returns then to Jezebel, and she considers that response. "Mm. Well. Maybe I look like someone because I am someone. Although not someone I'd expect you to know." Her own accent seems flat and uninteresting, surrounded by all this drawling, but she resists the urge to break into one as well. "That does beg the question what is the weirdest thing you've been asked…"

"You're thinking of Malibu Barbie," Geoff tells Jezebel, glancing at Tamara again. "But she's the one in the bathing suit. Marathon Barbie is the one with the little Gucci shorts and shit." He makes a vague gesture at Tamara. Rude. Then he looks at Jezebel again as he flicks ash aside. "Girl, where are you from?" he asks her.

"The Lone Star State. Born and raised." Jezebel tilts her head at Tamara's remark, smiling lopsidedly at her. "Yep, you're right. I'm just a country bumpkin. Don't know nothin' no-how. Shucks, the world sure is big and bright and scary." Jez takes another sip of her coffee and snorts briefly at Geoff's remark about Malibu Barbie. "Only Barbie dolls I ever had as a kid… well, I wasn't so concerned with dressin' 'em up pretty as I was making them careen into buildings in the Pepto pink Barbie Cadillac." At least she's straight forward about her motivations then. She looks back to Tamara and grins at her. "A guy asked me to pee in his mouth once, while I stepped on his chest in spiky heels. He said he'd give me five hundred. I said no, not for anything under a grand."

"Well, now. If I'd said I did expect you to know me, would that have made me more or less a snob in your eyes," Tamara replies with a sardonic smile. "Then again, Barbie is the most popular toy in the world, so maybe I should expect you both to know me." If the attitudes coming her way are getting to her, she does a great job of hiding it. "But as near as I can tell, I'm not the one making snap judgements about people just because of how they look." She gives a snort then, as Jezebel answers her question. "Good for you. A lady has to have standards."

"Damn, you would need some good-ass balance and good aim for that," Geoff tells Jezebel. "I mean, as a girl. Easier for a guy." His face doesn't really register surprise, though. He looks over at Tamara, brow puckering slightly with a doubtful expression. It's probably the most expressive he's been so far. Or maybe he's just really enjoying that cigarette. He exhales a cloud of smoke and says, "I did know you. Just like I know those shoes and water bottle are sold separately."

Jezebel grins at Tamara and takes a small bow for her 'negotiating' skills. "Thank ya, thank ya." She finishes off the coffee and throws it into a nearby waste recepticle. It does not land in the basket, but to her credit, Jez stops to pick it up anyway. Must be some of those down home manners coming out. "Lady, I didn't think you were a snob 'til you opened that pretty little mouth of yours. Hell, I still don't even think as much. Obviously you like the finer things in life and that's dandy. Those shorts probably cost more than how much I pay for my apartment. It's cool and all, but I could care less. Do you have a pink car too?" She asks the woman, before looking over at Geoff and nodding to him. "'S what I thought too, sugar. I haggled him up to fifteen hundred before I laughed in his face and told him that high heels give me blisters. Thankfully he ain't been back to the coffee shop since then."

"Everything is sold separately," Tamara replies to Geoff before glancing to Jezebel. "Including the car. Except mine's blue. Never was a big fan of pink. There's girly, and then there's girly." She glances down at the shorts and then shrugs. "I have no idea how much you pay for an apartment, so I can't say. But I do appreciate the finer things in life, you've got me there." She considers the last point, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "Fifteen hundred. The things some men will do to get their rocks off."

"If you have a fetish, you need to know the right people," Geoff opines, frowning around his cigarette as the glowing tip bounces with each word. "Asking in a coffee shop…" he mutters contemptuously. He looks over at Tamara. "Is it a convertible?" he asks. "I hope you have a leopard-print scarf to tie around your hair when the top's down." Teasing or not? Hard to tell.

There's a brief nod from the girl. "It did strike even me as a little strange that he would be asking a coffee shop employee and not someone more, ahem, specialized in those sorts of things…" Jez trails off momentarily. "But he told me that he liked the fresh-faced look and that I looked 'clean'. Personal hygiene seemed to be a big thing for him, which boggles the mind, don't ya think?" She asks the two before she chuckles at Tamara and nods her head. "Pink is a line not to be crossed. Gotcha." She doesn't reveal the money that she spends on the apartment, simply waiting to hear Tamara's response about the leopard-print hair kirchief that she might or might not wear.

"Yes, heaven forbid you have someone dirty peeing in your mouth," Tamara replies, rolling her eyes. "I suspect it has more to do with getting someone to do something they don't want to, for a price. Everything is usually about power in the end, after all." She looks back to Geoff then, with a faint smirk. "Of course it's a convertible. I don't think Barbie's allowed to drive any other type. Except for that camper-van, and I am definitely not driving one of those around. And there may or may not be a scarf involved, but it certainly isn't leopard-print."
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"She also had a Jeep," Geoff informs Tamara. "A pink Jeep. Ken would ride shotgun in that little gold mesh shirt he came packaged with." At least when Geoff was a kid. "Seriously, were they married or what?" Apparently Geoff has veered off from making fun of Tamara and settled on making fun of Barbie. He drops his cigarette and steps on it. "What time is it?" he asks, and takes his phone from his pocket to see. The phone really doesn't match the rest of his outfit, with the ripped-up jeans and dirty sneakers, or his flat, Daria demeanor. It looks like a teenaged girl with a BeDazzler got hold of it, as it is blinged to within an inch of its life with pink rhinestones. Fits the Barbie talk, though. He pushes a button and then puts it back in his pocket.

Jezebel just shakes her head, lost in thought for a moment. "I always thought that she and GI Joe should have ended up together. Barbie was a doctor, an astronaut, a veterinary, a beach comber, a pre-school teacher… but she was never Army Barbie. She shoulda had a big strong man to take care of her — or at least that's what I thought when I was a kid. Maybe it's why I hate Barbie so much now." Ah, conversations about one's deep inner thoughts with total strangers in Central Park. Jezebel only snaps out of her reverie to add to Geoff, "Pretty sure Ken was totally gay. He always wanted to go beach combing with those other two male Ken dolls, you know… Skip and Biff or whatever. Hell, Iunno." She shrugs her shoulders and watches the man take his phone out of his pocket, seeming halfway surprised to see the pink rhinestones adorning the phone. She smirks and then looks to Tamara. "I'm pretty sure Barbie also had a pony. Does that count as a vehicle?"

Both Jezebel and Geoff give Tamara something to think about, her for her deep thoughts about Barbie, and him for his Barbie-blinged phone. Tamara arches an eyebrow slightly as she regards the bedazzled device. "Guess I shouldn't have spoken so harshly about the colour pink," she muses, before looking back to Jezebel. "A mode of transportation, maybe. But I think those PETA folks would get a bit irate to hear it called a vehicle. And I think she and Ken were just dating, eternally. Clearly he just couldn't commit. So yes, I suppose she might have been a better match with this Joe fellow. …I must say, this is certainly more thought than I'd given to Barbie in years."

Geoff shrugs at Tamara. "It's a bad color for your complexion," he says. Which it's probably not, but he's got to fight back for his outrageous phone, right? It's out of sight now, at least. "Did you guys not watch the G.I. Joe cartoons?" he wonders. "Those guys would've had more in common with Ken."

"PETA schmeta. If meat is murder, I don't wanna be right, sister." Jezebel licks her lips in a way that could easily be misconstrued as lascivious, though the two people standing more close to her might recognize it as hunger, and not in the carnal sense. "So you think that Ken was Oprah's Steadman?" Jezebel asks Tamara, raising her eyebrows with some amusement. "That is an interestin' concept. I'm gonna have to remember that. Hell, if I'd gone to college, I could write my thesis on Barbies and feminism." She nods in agreement with Tamara on the subject of having not given Barbies any thought in that many years before she nods to Geoff. "Ayup. I saw some clips on the Interweb. They came off like a bunch of sissies, but I guess they were doin' the right thing and all, just tryin' to keep nimrod kids from blowin' themselves up and whatnot, y'know?" Jezebel makes herself smile when she mentions blowing things up. "And talkin' about stranger danger too, lest we not forget."

"I might be convinced to give up meat, but I could never give up leather," Tamara replies with some wry amusement, before shrugging to Jezebel's questions. "It's entirely possible. If those movies are to be believed, toys get up to all manner of things when we're not looking." She manages to state this in a perfect deadpan, although she clearly doesn't actually believe in Toy Story. She looks then to Geoff, an eyebrow raising as she considers his point about pink. Pfft, there are no bad colours for her complexion, as far as she's concerned, but she refrains from drawing more attention to the pink-ness of things. "I somehow missed those, but still, I'm hardly surprised. There's another thesis for you. The homoeroticism in children's cartoons. Although clearly the lesson on stranger danger failed to fully sink in," she adds with a smirk, considering their current conversation.

"Sissies?" Geoff frowns. "They were butch as shit, but that doesn't make them any less gay. They had names like Snow Job and Beach Head and they all looked like they were drawn by Tom of Finland." He smiles at her comment on stranger-danger, but then shrugs. "Sounds liek something half-ass you'd read on the internet."

Jez grins at Geoff. "They were just macho gays. They do exist. Bears and the like, you know. Though I think that just mostly applies to the extremely hairy, right?" Somehow Jezebel guesses that Geoff might know. She laughs at Tamara's assertion about homoeroticism in children's cartoons and shakes her head. "Did you know they're bringin' back My Little Pony? An' they've even got guys who call themselves Bronies, because they like to watch it. Ain't that some shit?" She asks the other woman. Her language may not be as sophisticated or pretty as the blonde's, but the sentiment remains the same. The brunette barrista, Geoff, and Tamara are at one of the many benches in Central Park, currently jabbering about childhood cartoons and toys. "I don't know. Always had a creepy feelin' my dolls were movin' when I was asleep. It's funny, the things you're scared of when you're a kid — they all seem so irrelevant when you become an adult."

"Some shit indeed," Tamara agrees, seeming vaguely amused as she borrows Jezebel's more colloquial speech, although it lacks the drawl to really sell it. "It seems like they're bringing everything back. I think true creativity must have died along with Mr. Henson," she muses with a little shake of her head. "I suppose if men want to watch it, that's their business, but Bronies just sounds … tacky." Not that it matters all that much to her one way or another. "Who knows what dolls get up to. Childhood fears just get replaced by more realistic ones, some might say. But I've never seen much value in being afraid, myself. It simply stands in the way of doing what you want to do."

Geoff narrows his eyes at Jezebel. "Seriously?" he asks in return for her question. "Yes, we come in Macho, yes, bears are hairy," he says, ticking those off on his fingers. Then he asks, "What is…? 'Bronies?' Ugh." He doesn't make much of a face, though. Then he shrugs at Jezebel. "It's because kids don't pay rent and utilities. Once you experience money terror, moving dolls don't cut it, because kicking the shit out of a doll is still at least free."

Jezebel nods and keeps quiet for a minute, finally looking at Tamara. "Speaking of Jim Henson, I think we can all agree here that David Bowie's crowning performance on any stage was in 1985's masterpiece, Labyrinth. I've never met a woman who disagreed, not even the mothers." She grins at Geoff and winks. "You know what they say… something about educating the ignorant, I think. Educate me, I am your vessel. Or whatever." She yawns and stretches her arms over her head before nodding between the two strangers. "Yeah, no kidding. I wish that I had as many 'problems' as I did when I was a kid. I used to worry about what kind of ice cream to get at Baskin-Robbins. Now I worry about whether I'll be able to afford or not. But you make an interestin' point there, Barbie. What with the realistic fear replacement."

"Bronies," Tamara repeats again with a smirk, confirming that for Geoff, and seeming to find some wry amusement in his assessment of the term. Looking back to Jezebel, she arches her eyebrows slightly and then nods. "I really can't disagree there, no. It was a pretty spectacular role," she muses, thinking about that for a moment, before returning to the conversation. "I've been known to make a good point now and then," she replies with a dry chuckle. "Children may have fewer problems, but I prefer the freedom of adulthood, just the same."

Geoff shrugs at Jezebel. "I'll pick you up a pamphlet or something," he says, his expression not making it clear that he's being sarcastic. He doesn't seem to have anything to say about Labyrinth. He checks his phone again.

Lance moves down the sidewalk, enjoying Central Park during his time off despite the time of night. He has a pair of earbuds coming out of his shirt with only one placed in his ear and the other hangs at his chest. The faint murmur of the music playing can be heard from the exposed earbud. His eyes scanning over anyone he happens to come across along the path, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"Sweet, thanks. If I had known they had pamphlets that concerned homosexuality in terms other than condemning it, I'd have perused one a long time ago." She gives as good as she gets, apparently. Jez watches Geoff check his phone again, a smirk crossing her lips. "Hot date tonight, sugar?" The southern woman asks him before she looks at Tamara. "Those tights." She simply says, rather all knowingly. "The freedom of adulthood is nice, sure. What everyone neglects to tell you however is that work is basically like school all over again and you'll wake up, go to work, come home, and die. That's how I thought of school when I was a kid. I never thought it would end." The sudden blur of motion in her peripheral vision makes her whip her head quickly in Lance's direction. There's no sign of whiplash, but rather the same observational powers that drew Tamara's attention toward her. "Hmm. We should call 'im over. He's got a Goonies t-shirt."

She glances to Geoff as he checks his phone again, but Tamara refrains from commenting this time. "Well. The trick is to find the life you want to live and then live it," she advises to Jezebel instead, frowning slightly at this idea of being trapped in work until you die. "I gave up on the whole structured work thing years ago. Consulting is where it's at," she informs the younger woman with a knowing nod, although something about that seems to amuse her perhaps more than it should. She also looks over at Lance, although she's a little more sedate in doing it. The shirt gets a laugh and she nods to Jezebel. "Seems he would fit right in. Be sure to ask him his opinion of Bronies."

"No, I have to be at work in an hour," Geoff tells Jezebel. "I have a show from one to last call." He doesn't seem to have the hypervigilance about passersby that she has, so he doesn't bother to look at Lance until Jezebel points him out. "Huh. I never saw that one, so I don't have anything smartass to say about it."

Lance does offer a glance towards the group as he draws near, offering a half smile and a nod of his head in greeting as he notices the various glances towards him, but offers no other form of greeting as he continues down the path towards his destination.

Jezebel nods at Geoff. "I understand that. Less about the shows…" And more about work. But she's not taking off yet. "Never saw the Goonies?" She asks incredulously at the dark-haired man. "Maybe we can hail down the Expert, then." She looks at the other two before breaking away from them and sprinting in Lance's direction. She stops just about a few yards away from him and walks calmly toward him, stopping a respectable distance. She points at him and motions for him to take the earbuds out. "'Scuse me sir, couldn't help but noticin' your t-shirt there. My friends and I hare havin' a discussion about childhood stuff. Our gentleman friend there has never seen the Goonies. We were hopin' you could come and give him a rundown."

Tamara glances towards Geoff, her eyebrows lifting a little at this talk of work. No doubt he could benefit from this whole idea of freelance as well. "Never saw the Goonies? Well, that's a shame." She steps back slightly as Jezebel goes sprinting off to hail down the supposed expert on the subject. "But it seems you're just in time for a lesson," she adds, watching with some amusement as the younger woman speaks to the expert. For her part, Tamara seems vaguely curious as to how he'll respond to an invitation like that.

Geoff looks a little doubtful as Jezebel summons a Goonies tutor for him, but only a little. "Hi," he says to Lance. "Apparently I wasted my childhood." His delivery is deadpan.

Lance stops in his tracks and turns as he hears the woman's voice behind him. He offers a smile, pulling out the other earbud as she continues speaking, explaining the situation. As she mentions his shirt, he glances down then looks towards the others, before he raises an eyebrow slightly. "Never seen the Goonies? I think that's punishable by death in some states." He speaks with an obvious New York accent mixed in with a bit of French thrown in. He looks back towards he others, looking between the two before focusing on Geoff and offers a wave. "Hello." He offers with a smile. "Apparently you did. Though it's only one of the best cult classics there is."

The barrista leads their new found friend back to the other two, smiling at them widely. Clearly she thinks she's done good by bringing them some fresh meat; much less a guy in a Goonies t-shirt. "He's a veritable pop culture expert, don'tcha know?" Jezebel asks the other two. "Your childhood must have been sad without one of Corey Feldman's best movie performances in it, sans Haim. Very touching." She gives a sagenod to them and looks over at Tamara. There's a vague head nod in Lance's direction, her eyes fixed on Tamara, before they trail down to Lance's arse. The brunette gives the blonde a solemn thumbs up. Yep, she done real good.

"Maybe not all of it, but at least the pre-teen years," Tamara replies to Geoff, as to having wasted his childhood. Lance gets a nod of greeting as he approaches, which she also uses as an opportunity to quickly size him up. Jezebel's thumbs up is caught and results in a quiet laugh from the blonde woman, who makes no effort to hide or explain the laugh. But she does have to grant a nod back to the younger woman. Right, yes. The Goonies. "At least there are no plans to remake that one, right?" she asks, looking around to the others for verification. It's hard to keep track these days.

"C'est un scandal," Geoff deadpans in return, shrugging. "Listen, I'm going to be late for my shift and I hate to be rushed when I'm getting ready, so I gotta go. But if you want to come by and tell me about the Goonies one night, that'd be fine by me. I work at the Barracuda in Chelsea. Ask for Gigi." If he's flirting, it is a pretty lackluster flirt. It sounds like he's talking about the grocery list. If he's not flirting, that's a pretty specific set of instructions for a stranger. Either way, what it comes down to is that Geoff is odd. He opens and closes a hand. "Bye, ladies."

Lance nods his head as he looks to Geoff. "It's cool. I don't want to keep you. Your friends just asked me over." He says to the other man, not making any notices of the women making a piece of meat out of him. "You could always rent it. It's out on DVD now." He says to the other man before he looks back towards the two women. "I don't want to keep him from his job or anything. Sorry."

Jez actually seems to be listening when Geoff mentions his workplace. He may not have been specifically asking her to come down there, but… she was standing there. So it wasn aopen intivitation, right? "Cool. Thanks, brony!" Jez calls out to him, waving at him before she smiles at Lance. "That's no trouble at all." She pauses and then stares at Tamara in horror. "I hope I did NOT just hear you say remake… and Goonies in the same context. Oh Hell naw." The brunette shakes her head fiercely. "That would be utter and total blasphemy!" She reaches up to tug her ponytail down and rub at the back of her head as if it's sore, looking to the other two. "My name is Jez, by the way. Jezzie to few."

Tamara no doubt hears Geoff's place of work too, although she doesn't seem terribly interested in it. Still, it's filed away. Noticing things is important. "Nice meeting you, Gigi," she replies, showing nothing in her expression if she thinks that an unusual name for the man. There have been many unusual things in this conversation, after all. "His loss," she replies to Lance's apology, before looking to Jezebel with a straight face. "I wasn't suggesting they should do one. I would hardly be surprised if they did, however. Hollywood and blasphemy are hardly unfamiliar with one another." She rolls her shoulders again, trying to keep from stiffening up after her run. "Tamara," she offers simply, by her own way of introduction. If she has a cutesy nickname, it's not offered.

Lance raises an eyebrow at Jez at the mention of a Goonies remake, shaking his head slightly. "From what I hear it's a sequel. It's still in the development phase, but that's about all I've heard about it. Some rumors say it's a musical, which will be shit, but others say they won't." He shrugs his shoulders as he glances to Tamara as she speaks, nodding slightly. He glances between the two women as they introduce themselves. "Lucas." He says with a slight nod before he offers Geoff a wave goodbye as he heads out before returning his attention back to the two women, filing the names away for later along with the mentioned place of employment from Geoff.. "If there's nothing else, I'll be off. Was nice meeting you." He says, prepared to leave the two women as they were and continue on his way.

"Sure thing. Nice meeting you too, Lucas." There's a visible look of disappointment from Jezebel before she looks to Tamara. "Well, it is getting late, I s'pose. I've got to get home so I can get the minimum amount of sleep before work. If there's ever one thing that ain't gonna tank, it'll be the coffee industry." She looks over at Tamara and grins. "And the movie industry. Both good money makers." She looks up at the dark night sky and pauses. "You can almost see the stars here sometimes through the pollution. It's clearer in Texas. Well, nice meeting you both. Walk safe." With that, Jezebel heads off in the opposite direction.

"It is getting late," Tamara agrees, glancing around the darkened park. "And I have places to be as well. I suppose that's long enough to be fashionably late," she notes with a little grin. "Enjoy your nights. If they aren't fun, then I hope they're at least restful." Hers will be fun, is what she clearly insinuates in that statement. As they both wander off, she pauses long enough to have another sip of her water and check her phone for the time, before she begins sauntering off herself.

Lance glances towards the two women as they say their farewells and nods to each woman in turn. "You guys be safe too." He says to them as he starts to place the earbud back into his ear and turns to start down the direction he was heading as the two others head off in opposite directions. He stuffs his hands back into his jacket pockets after both earbuds are in place.

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