[Little Vinnie Moretti] Vinnie sat next to the fountain for a moment, taking a breather. He liked to come through Grant on his way from Wrigley…walk off from a game or joining the Bleacher Bums for a round of drinks at the sports bar during the off-season. Tonight the talk had been about Rick Monday’s play back in ’76 and how crazy things had been back then. Vinnie grinned a little, thinking it was hard to imagine he was 50 now…but then again, with a face like his, it was hard to imagine he wasn’t 60.
He patted around inside his jacket before finally finding a cigarette case. He paused, glancing at the signs and sighed…the fountain didn’t really like having smokers around it. He glanced around again, most figures having moved on from the cold…at least the tourists. It wasn’t like it would hurt anyone this much in the open…his fingers fumbling with a lighter as he slipped out a thin cigarello…having switched from regular cancer sticks to more ‘refined’ tastes as he liked to tell the kids that hung around the Southside crew.
[Izzy Montoya] She’s not one for games, and bleacher bums, or sports bars – except for the fact that the latter is a bar and therefore holds whiskey, and that is enough to allow her to stomach the last. She’s more of a dive bar hole in the wall where the clientele is sketchy at best, and they don’t ask questions.
Which is exactly where she’s headed, truth be told, as she walks through the park tonight. As she’s been told before, her look screams cop – professionally dressed, comfortable, detective sorta cop. You expect her to have a gun, a badge, cuffs – though you never quite expect her mouth – but you get used to it.
She nears the fountain, but doesn’t seem like she intends to slow, unless something slows her.
[Little Vinnie Moretti] Its a minor breach…a fine at best. Vinnie doesn’t see the cop and despite some of his ilk claiming they could ‘smell the pig miles away’, it would seem Little Vinnie’s olfactory senses were off tonight. The lighter flicked on and he lit the cigarello…smoking despite signs indicating ‘No Smoking’ around its clear and beautiful fountains. There were designated smoking areas after all to keep most of the park, especially Millennium Park from being soured with cigarette butts and other trash (though it was sometimes impossible).
He puffed a little, shifting his sports jacket some…the native definitely a fan of the Boys in Blue, even if he wasn’t a fan of the Men in Blue.
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn’t mind the minor breaches most of the time – but something has her on edge, something annoys her when she sees the man sitting within walking distance of a smoking area.
“I could fuckin run you in for that.”
And good evening to you too, Detective.
[Little Vinnie Moretti] Vinnie paused…then looked over, the old timer sizing her up as the brown wrapped cigarello jutted from between his lips as tired eyes stared at her and then replied in a gruff voice.
“…what are you…a cop or somethin’?”
He said, his face a little flushed from drinking earlier himself…his liver not quite what it use to be…he should have said no to that beer but you didn’t tell Mickey no, otherwise he’d just offer to buy something stronger.
“I ain’t killin’ folks…just havin’ a smoke.”
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks, and rests her hand on her hips and mimics him. “What’re you, blind or somethin? Fuckin’ designated area is 50 feet over that way.”
She doesn’t seem to have any real intention to run him in. Too much fuckin’ paperwork, and not her department. “Most would argue ya are killin folks, but I don’t rightly give two shits.”
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “Then why you diggin’ into my ass?”
He grunted before he finally shook his head, starting to walk that way…he doesn’t bother to put out the smoke though as he strolls for it.
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks, and shrugs.
“Passin the time.”
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “Get a fuckin’ hobby or a job….”
Vinnie muttered something about women as he moved over to the smoking area, glowering a bit as the view of the fountain now was a bit of ways now and not nearly as enjoyable…or relaxing. Stupid damn signs. Stupid ‘No Smoking’ ordinances.
[Izzy Montoya] The smoke rolls into a chuckle as she shrugs. “Got one.”
A hobby or a job, she doesn’t clarify, she just tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket and starts walking again.
[Izzy Montoya] (smoke? smirk.)
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “Apparently being a pain in the ass!”
He calls back, shaking his head as he leaned against the smoke post…drawing from the brown wrapped smoke..tapping the ashes into can. Sometimes the 70s still gave him headaches like women like her.
[Izzy Montoya] “You do what you’re good at, you know?”
And she is very, very good at her job. Her walk takes her past the smoking area, though she’s not purposely following him. Just following the path she had intended to take.
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “Then I guess you get good tips.”
Vinnie grunted, smirking a little as he took another drag from the cigarette…being a bit of a wise ass now after getting more then a few scathing remarks from the woman and not about to lay back and take it.
[Izzy Montoya] “Surprisingly no. Get a lot of fuckin’ lip from assholes though.”
She doesn’t seem bothered with the continued retorts, and tosses them back with ease.
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “You get what you dish out. You want an attitude, you dish it out…you want a smile, you give a blowjob or a kiss. Whichever you’re better at.”
He glanced at the cigarello…suddenly finding the taste of it not so great as he puts it out…his thick hands moving into the interior of his sports jacket to gain some warmth and circulation in them again.
[Izzy Montoya] “Aaah, sorry, old fogies ain’t my type. Save your life lessons for some other patsy.”
And she just keeps walking.
[Little Vinnie Moretti] “Never assumed I was…you got too much mouth for my tastes.”
He turned, deciding to head to the next station…he still had to get back home…if he could call it at home.
[Izzy Montoya] (and scene!)