Some Friendly Advice

The cool breeze was making Chrysalis rethink the t-shirt/net shirt combo as she walked from the bus stop, her unwieldy portfolio bag weighing down her right shoulder. Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was almost seven, meaning she had barely enough time to drop of her supplies before heading up to Bea and Ronnie's for dinner. The thought of hot, homemade food warmed her up, if only emotionally, but the bounce in her step was there. As she got to her door, the usual over-large grackle was waiting, staring at her in bored curiosity.

"I can't tell if you want me to give you food, or want me to be food, you creep," she called up to it amicably, but retrieved a fistful of birdseed from inside her front door as she opened it. She threw it onto the sidewalk behind her, not even watching as the bird fluttered down to peck at the food. Chrys carefully lay down her bag, cast an unnecessary glance at her makeup in the mirror by the door, and locked up behind her.

"Well, food for you, now food for me. And be nice; share some of it this time. There are starving birds in Africa who would murder you for that." Grinning, she took the stairs two at a time before knocking a few beats on the upstairs door.

A few moments later Ronnie answered the door with a smile. Her hair was tied back in a yellow scarf and she wore her traditional Friday cleaning outfit; cut-off jeans and a baggy white t-shirt. Somehow, despite the dust, grungy clothes, and sweat she still managed to exude an aura of grace And easy charm.

"Que tal, Hermanita?" she said with a warm smile, "Come on in, I was just gonna start dinner. Bea's at a late physical therapy session and doesn't know when she'll be home. You want something to drink? We have tea, milk or horchada."

Chrys smirk-smiled back, answering, "Stars and sky, hermana." She stepped inside, stepping out of her shoes and placing them next to the door. "And tea would be splendid. Its been a long day."

Glancing around, and sizing up Esperanza in her cleaning gear, Chrys offered, "Need any help cleaning? You and Bea keep it pretty immaculate, but I don't mind working for my dinner."

"Nah, I'm pretty much done with cleaning for today, I think."

She glanced around the front rooms of the apartment, sizing things up and making sure they met her critical approval before reaching up and untying the scarf that held her long hair back.

"How're your classes going?" she asked as she went into the apartment's kitchen and retrieved two glasses from the cabinet.

"Well, Painting and Photography are going swimmingly, but Arts and Civ is bugging me. I like the symbols and the mythology and everything, but I can't help but wonder if the artists themselves were considering all of that." She followed Ronnie into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Esperanza put water on to boil.

"How about you? Classes going well? I know you work a ton."

"Oh, same old." Ronnie said as she pulled out some tea bags from a jar on the counter and dropped them in the glasses, "I know what you mean. I'm having similar thoughts about Dr. Byrne's class. I mean dream analysis is fun and all, but I'm pretty sure that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

She opened the refrigerator and quickly scanned the contents. It had been a while since she'd gone shopping, but there was eggs, potatoes, some good sausage she'd picked up at the campus meat market... She was pretty sure there was even an onion or two left in the pantry.

"How does migas sound?"' she asked

"Delicious as always," Chrys replied matter-of-factly. "Though easy on the spice. I'm a delicate white girl and I don't have Bea's intestinal fortitude."

Watching Esperanza, Chrys seemed distant for a moment, as if puzzling out a problem. Finally, she spoke in an odd tone, "Ronnie, can I ask your advice on something? Its a little weird, but you're good with the advice anyway, and this is something I know you can help with."

Ronnie's ears perked up at the tone of Chrys' voice. It was a tone that she'd heard many times over the years from various people and it almost always meant that something was wrong. Her mother-bear instincts kicked into high gear.

"Of course, chiquita, you know you can talk to me about anything. Is everything ok?"

"Well, we've been getting some creepy types at work lately. And, I mean, creepy even to me. Some of them are even regulars. Its bizarre. Like, there's this one guy who, I swear, ordered a drink, waited five minutes without drinking it, then came back up to order another." She sighed, idly scratching her arm.

"And there's a girl who just comes in and, I swear, stares at me for like hours. Not is a good way, either. That, at least I'd be flattered. She looks like I kicked her puppy, though, like, angry. Skeeves me out." Chrys actually laughed at that, continuing, "Actually, speaking of skeeve, that Steve guy is still hanging around. He's actually kind of charmingly pathetic. He tries to be smooth, but it comes of like he read one of those "how to pick up girls" books but only skimmed it."

Chrys's eyes followed Ronnie's hands for a moment as she cooked, finally asking, "So how do you deal with creepy guys, or girls, at work?"

Ronnie gave Chrys a sympathetic look as she took out the potatoes and sausage.

"Oh, Chica, yeah, I know what that's like. I used to have a guy who'd come in and stare at me all night and then wait outside until I left. It got so I had to have the bouncer, Henry, follow me out to my car every time I worked. Of course that all stopped when he tried to get in the car with me as if he knew me. Henry broke his arm in three places. They don't mess around in my line of work."

She paused from arranging ingredients and looked at Chrys, realizing what that sounded like.

"Not that I'm saying you should resort to violence. I mean most of the time they're completely harmless. But just don't ever be alone with them. Have you talked to your boss about it?"

Chrys shrugged, saying "You know Marc. He's a sweetie, tells me to keep an eye out, offers to walk me to my car. I don't want to be a hassle. And, I mean, they are paying customers. Some of them very much so. Its just unnerving."

She smirked again, her mischievous look this time. "Besides, violence solves everything. Just ask Bea and Aimee."

Ronnie laughed. She put a skillet with some butter on the oven and started peeling a large russet potato.

"The day you start taking lessons on crisis management from Bea and Aimee is the day you'll end up in a paddy wagon." she chuckled.

"Remember, just because they're paying you, doesn't mean they own you. I've seen too many girls fall into that trap and it never ends well. You don't owe then anything but courtesy. And even that has a limit."

"Pfft. Paddy wagon. You're the only sixty year old exotic dancer I've ever heard of." She paused, thoughtful. "Thank god."

Shaking her head as if to get the thought out, Chrys continued. "Yeah, that makes sense. And if it was directly douchey behavior I wouldn't have a problem asking them to leave. But buying extra drinks to talk to me, or just sitting there, they're not really doing anything wrong. Just weird. And, really, if we punished people for that, I'd already be in the 'paddy wagon.'"

"We all would", Ronnie said with a grin.

"Weird is one thing, but dangerous is something else, chica. If you ever feel threatened you call me or Bea or Aimee or any of us and we'll come running faster than you can blink. You're the best of us, kiddo. If anything ever happened to you I think the rest of us might go a little batty."

She finished cutting up the onions she'd been peeling and tossed them into the hot butter, letting them sizzle for a moment as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel.

"Seriously, though, maybe a show of force might make them at least think twice about creeping. You know any nice muscle-bound boys you could have come flirt with you while you work? As much as I love them Nils and Simon are not really... built for the job."

"Hey, Simon's in really good shape." Chrys exclaimed defensively before blushing crimson. "But, ah, yeah, I get your point. They're not exactly scary. Hmm, unfortunately Marc's built like them. Maybe that guy from my life drawing class last semester. He's pretty muscle-y, and we're on good terms. I think I might owe him a date out of it, but that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Chrys doodled absently on the tabletop with her finger, tracing out a drawing of Ronnie in her head. After a few moments, she looked up sharply as though a thought just occurred to her.

"Ronnie, why don't you date? I've known you guys for months now, and I've never even heard of you going on a date. Why? I mean, you're gorgeous. It certainly can't be from lack of options."

Ronnie laughed, although perhaps just a beat too long.

"You sound like my mom." she said as she busied her hands with breaking and mixing eggs in a small bowl, "Which I suppose is a bit of a switch, huh?"

"I... I don't really have time for that right now. I mean, there's school and work and... stuff."

She sighed and tossed the shredded potato into the pan along with the onion, turning back to look at Chrys.

"Alright, if you want the truth, I just haven't found anyone I'm even remotely interested in... except... well, the only one I would consider is... not interested."

Right at that moment the teapot began to whistle and she turned back to grab it, thankful for the interuption. She poured it into the glasses and handed one to Chrys.

"Let it steep a minute. Sugar?"

"Yes, please," Chrys said, taking the cup carefully in two hands.

"So, Blind or stupid? Because, while I don't want to discriminate, even a blind guy should be able to see how awesome you are, and I'm not sure I'd want you dating someone dumb enough not to be interested in you." She looked down at her cup, swirling the tea a little.

"Who is it? Do I know this paragon, this ideal, this Adonis who has the pure Esperanza pining her heart away?" Chrys waggled her eyebrows, her smirk almost becoming a genuine smile.

A smirk crossed Ronnie's face as she reached into the cabinet for the suger, dumping several large tablespoons worth into her own cup before handing it to Chrys.

"Who says it's an Adonis?" she said, "You never know, I could be playing for Connie and Aimee's team."

She grinned and went back to stirring her pan, adding the eggs and some torn up strips of homemade tortillas from the pantry along with some herbs and spices.

"And I'm hardly pure. I'm a stripper, chica. There may be a line around the block to get into my pants, but I'm not exactly dating material."

"Ronnie Ronnie Ronnie. You're dissembling. I think I'd know if you were on the lineup for Aimee's team; Nils would have told me."

Chrys watched Ronnie rip up the tortillas and add the eggs, taking a tiny sip of her tea before continuing.

"And, senorita, you may be the most pure person I've ever met. Stripper or no, don't underestimate yourself. It doesn't become you."

Ronnie's eyes shifted slightly and her hands stopped for just a split second when Chrys mentioned Nils, but luckily she had been turned towards the stove at the time. She lifted the pan and scraped the migas onto three plates. She handed one to Chrys and took one to her own seat at the table. The third plate she wrapped with saran wrap and stuck in the fridge.

"You're sweet." she said, "And you're too smart for your own good. Yeah, it's a guy. There's just... there's issues involved. On both sides. Don't worry your pretty head about it, Chica. I'm sure I'll find someone. I'm not in any rush."

She smiled and took a bite of her migas.

"After all, I do have some standards. I'm not really the type to go for one-night stands."

Chrys accepted her migas gratefully, giving a short laugh at the idea of Ronnie having a one-night stand.

"Yeah, that doesn't seem like you. It'd take some weird circumstances, that's for sure. On the dating note, what about Bea? I don't think I've seen her out with a guy, either. And, all stereotypes aside, ladies don't seem like her thing, either."

Stopping to take a sip of tea, Chrys let a small smile slip at the delicious meal.

"Wonderful as always, Ronnie. About Bea, is it just the injury? She seems to be doing better about it, but I know she's pissed. Aimee was thinking of asking her to come walking with her at the park when Simon runs. Thought it might help her with her physical therapy if she got out and did it."

"Bea is..." Ronnie searched for the right euphemism, "...working through some issues."

She sipped her tea and made a slight grimace before reaching for the sugar again.

"She's got a lot of anger and a lot of pain. She's tough, but she knows her injury changed her life. Right now she has a lot more on her mind than dating. To be honest though, I don't think I've ever seen her show interest in it, even on her better days. I think maybe she's just happier by herself. It takes a lot of strength to be comfortable being alone."

Ronnie smirked and nudged Chrys with her elbow.

"Why the sudden interest in Bea and I's romantic lives? Is there someone you've got your eye on?"

"Maybe...but I think I have the same problem you do. The guy I'm interested in, he'd never go for me. I don't think I'm his type." Chrys paused to take a bite, savoring the crunch of the tortilla bits. "I don't know if he has a type."

"I don't know. I've known Aimee and Connie for a long time now, and it feels longer. I see what they have and I'm, jealous isn't the word. Envious seems wrong too. I know Connie's said it wasn't always easy, but my r...my family was never like that." Taking a sip of tea, she sighed contentedly.

"And, really, what other role model can I have? Nils? I love him like a brother, but he makes as good of decisions as I do. Le sigh, as Aimee would say."

"Now who's selling themselves short?" Ronnie smirked, "You're a sweet, beautiful, young woman; and you've got plenty of time to find someone. Your whole life is ahead of you."

"Besides", she said nonchalantly as she reached for the hotsauce, "Did you ever consider that maybe Simon is just oblivious?"

"Whoa now, lets not mention any names, all right? I never said it was Simon, just like you never said it was...well, lets be civil, all I'm saying." Chrys' tone calmed from panic as she spoke, but she still looked a little nervous.

"And I'm not selling myself short. Though I am short. I'm not sure if the guy I like who shall remain anonymous would be into me. That's a matter of personal taste, and not mine. Sure, mine leans towards tall, thin but fit, geeky bachelors of a certain level of intelligence, but that doesn't mean his, I mean their's, leans reciprocally."