jleng: (other people)
Jean Louis Girard ([personal profile] jleng) wrote 2018-10-27 11:21 am (UTC)

[ He only rarely frequents this place, disliking both the flimsiness of the gay community as a whole and the way some of them stare at him from the shadows like he's fucking edible. Not that he'd ever say so, of course, seeing as most of the In&Out clientele leave lovely, fat x'es on their ballots next to either his name or to Liberté - potato, potah-to, perhaps. To some extent. In any case, he stays friendly whenever they have to come here - whenever Marcel's got an itch he can't seem to scratch in any other fashion. Friendly, if not altogether approachable. Most people simply chalk it up to him, craving at least a semblance of respite from the rush of politics and who's he to correct them? Let them think as they like, so long as it keeps them off his back, every possible pune intended.

He's been outside for a smoke and makes his way quickly, efficiently, across the room, navigating around the dance floor as cleanly as possible and heading straight for the bar. Marcel's off with somebody, some faceless clown that had better remain faceless, unless Marcel wants to spend the rest of his evening taking out garbage. Scowling at the thought, he's briefly distracted by two men, yelling at each other tearfully further back, one of them seemingly drunk out of his mind.

As such, he doesn't see the guy before he more or less runs him over, bumping into him sideways. Though the impact doesn't bother Jean Louis, it's got to bother him more, being such a scrawny little... He pauses. Stares and blinks.

Oh. It's a she. ]

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