1964-07-25 - The Potstickers are at the end.
Summary: Matt comes into the restaurant for dinner; Mike is his bartender
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
mike-matthews matt-murdock 


There's a blind man sitting at the end of the bar as Mike gets into work that afternoon. He hasn't been there long and has only ordered himself a beer by the time the new worker takes over. He's wearing a nice suit, and though his hair is a mess and he has a five o'clock shadow, he looks otherwise a decent sort. In front of him is a menu which won't do him much good, obviously.


Mike Matthews comes in on time for his shift, clean cut and neatly dressed, and seeming to be in a good mood. It's quiet at the start of his shift — not his favorite time. He likes the thrum of people, the conversation, watching the interplay of people, and playing to an audience. But still, at least there is someone at the bar. When the previous shift checks out, he slides behind the bar and tosses a towel over one shoulder. "Hello," he says to Matt with a broad grin, "I'm Mike. Let me know if you need a refill, a bit of bar wisdom, or someone to tell stories of what drives you to drink to." Because that's what he has heard bartenders on earth do.


Matt chuckles, "Well, while those are all pretty good options, I'm hoping you might be able to tell me what tonight's specials on food are." He slides the menu in front of himself and turns toward the kid behind the bar. "You a new guy? I come around here pretty often and haven't come across you yet."


When the menu is turned around in front of him, he says, "Oh, sure. Let's see. There is a Fetuccine Alfredo with Cajun Shrimp. There is a Bacon Lettuce Turkey and Avocado Croissant. I have tried these avocados. Very green and squishy but not bad at all. There is also a Petit Sirloin with Green Beans with Garlic and Slivered Almonds. I'm not sure why they say it is Petit. That's small, but it's not small. It's actually quite decently sized." He then turns the menu around and points it back at Matt.


"Think I'll have the sirloin, then," Matt says with a nod and then he reaches for and finishes his beer. "And one more of these, please." Matt leans back in his chair and for a moment starts thinking about some of his cases, but his mind drifts back towards the murder he's working on during his night time hours.


"Sounds good," Mike says as he takes the menu away and glances at what sort of beer Matt is having. He's gone for a few moments to put in the order and then to return and get another bottle of beer, swapping the old one out with a new one for Matt. "So is this your regular bar? You said you come here often. I have heard there are a very large number of bars in New York, which stands to reason. Your people are genearlly out of sorts and in need of some cheering up."


"Yeah, to some extent," Matt says. "If there's not a meal involved I'm usually at Josie's, since it's right down the road from my house." He tilts his head, "You said 'your' people. You're not from around Hell's Kitchen I take it. Maybe not from New York either."


Mike Matthews isn't very good at this whole secret identity thing. "Oh, no," he says and then remembers, "I just moved here from upstate." Though it's clear that he had to think about that for a moment. But then that confident smile just slides right back in place and he goes about wiping down the bar, even though it's already clean.


Matt can't really tell if the bar is dirty, so it doesn't stick out much to him. He does, however, notice the cadence of Mike's answer, storing it away for later. "That so? How do you like the city so far?"


"There are fewer cows, and a great deal more people, which is a good thing," Mike answers hostly as he considers the question and then adds, "There's a lot more activity, too, more things to see and people to experience."


"Well that's good. I'm glad you like it so far." Matt chuckles as he thinks of what a new person to town might need to know. "Pro-tip: If you're hungry, Geno's over on the corner two blocks west of here has the best pizza in the whole neighborhood. Everyone in New York will want to give you advice. That's mine."


Mike Matthews leans back against the counter behind him when Matt offers his advice and nods as he listens, making a mental note. "Geno's over on the corner, two blocks west.." He repeats it to himself and then he says, "A place to find good pizza is sound advice." He looks thoughtful for a moment and then says, "Good timber does not grow with ease; the stronger the wind, the stronger the trees. That's mine." Where he got it? Probably a fortune cookie, but that is his advice for the day.


"I really hope you're right, Mike." The lawyer responds before he takes a swig of his beer. "My name is Matt Murdock, by the way. I work nearby so I'm sure I'll be seeing you quite often when I come in for dinner."


"Nice to meet you, Matt Murdock. I am Mike Matthews. Speaking of dinner," Mike glances back toward the kitchen and says. "I will go see how yours is doing." And with that he heads off into the kitchen, both to check on Matt's order but more importantly to see if they have more of those delicious potstickers. They don't like it when he pilfers them, but they are so tasty.


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