Conversation · Garte, the Cafeteria Manager · Page 4

Esprit de Corps

That's cop for: "I haven't offered to pay because I don't have any money either."

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You

"Why do I need it?"

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"For survival, to pay me. Unless you want to become a hobo? Do you want to become a hobo? There's nowhere else to stay in Martinaise and it's a cold spring outside. Money doesn't make you happy but it lets you be unhappy for a while longer."

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"For survival, to pay me. Unless you want to become a hobo? Do you want to become a hobo? There's nowhere else to stay in Martinaise and it's a cold spring outside. Money doesn't make you happy but it lets you be unhappy for a while longer."

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"If you run out of money, you die. It's like that for all of us -- me too. That's why I need you to pay me." He stops and says, mostly to himself: "I'm not an asshole."

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"Why do I need it?"

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"If you run out of money, you die. It's like that for all of us -- me too. That's why I need you to pay me." He stops and says, mostly to himself: "I'm not an asshole."

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"For survival, to pay me. Unless you want to become a hobo? Do you want to become a hobo? There's nowhere else to stay in Martinaise and it's a cold spring outside. Money doesn't make you happy but it lets you be unhappy for a while longer."

You

"But what if I don't have any?" (Proceed.)

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You

"I don't think I have any money." (Proceed.)

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You

"Where can I get money?"

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"Interesting. Where do I get it from?"

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"Are you serious? From your work, I don't know... you can take bribes, I guess." He looks at the lieutenant. "I'm sorry. I don't think cops take bribes."

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Are you serious? From your work, I don't know... you can take bribes, I guess." He looks at the lieutenant. "I'm sorry. I don't think cops take bribes."

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"Some do take recompense." The lieutenant is dead serious. "But only to survive."

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"Where can I get money?"

Kim Kitsuragi

"Some do take recompense." The lieutenant is dead serious. "But only to survive."

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"Are you serious? From your work, I don't know... you can take bribes, I guess." He looks at the lieutenant. "I'm sorry. I don't think cops take bribes."

You

(Proceed and show him the coins you found.) "Is this money?"

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"Yes. It is."

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Yes. It is."

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(Proceed and show him the coins you found.) "Is this money?"

You

(Count them and give them to him.) "That's 10 plus 10 plus 20 equals 40. I'm now down to 90, right?"

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"No, you see..." There's a tinge of sadness in his voice. "That's 40 cents. Cents are a form of currency one hundred times smaller than the reál. I'm not even going to take this. Come back when you have 130 reál."

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"Yes. It is."

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"No, you see..." There's a tinge of sadness in his voice. "That's 40 cents. Cents are a form of currency one hundred times smaller than the reál. I'm not even going to take this. Come back when you have 130 reál."

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(Count them and give them to him.) "That's 10 plus 10 plus 20 equals 40. I'm now down to 90, right?"

You

"Okay."

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He stands silently looking at the coppers on the counter.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

He stands silently looking at the coppers on the counter.

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The cafeteria manager stands silently looking at the coppers on the counter before him.

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For a moment, his antipathy is overcome by compassion for the sheer smallness of the money.

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"Okay."

Suggestion

For a moment, his antipathy is overcome by compassion for the sheer smallness of the money.

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Isn't it... evil? The order of magnitude between what is asked of a person -- and what they have?

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Conceptualization

Isn't it... evil? The order of magnitude between what is asked of a person -- and what they have?

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For a moment, his antipathy is overcome by compassion for the sheer smallness of the money.

You

Keep it to yourself and pick up the coins.

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There's a shuffle of nylon as Lieutenant Kitsuragi looks for something in the pockets of his orange bomber.

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You

"Darkness rides." (Pick up the coins.)

Conditional

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"It does, doesn't it."

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"It does, doesn't it."

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There's a shuffle of nylon as Lieutenant Kitsuragi looks for something in the pockets of his orange bomber.

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"Darkness rides." (Pick up the coins.)

You

Pick up the coins.

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He demonstratively suppresses a world-weary sigh.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

He demonstratively suppresses a world-weary sigh.

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Pick up the coins.

You

"But that's horrible."

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"It is." He stands silently looking at the coppers on the counter.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"It is." He stands silently looking at the coppers on the counter.

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For a moment, his antipathy is overcome by compassion for the sheer smallness of the money.

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"But that's horrible."

You

"One hundred times smaller?"

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"Yes."

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"No, you see..." There's a tinge of sadness in his voice. "That's 40 cents. Cents are a form of currency one hundred times smaller than the reál. I'm not even going to take this. Come back when you have 130 reál."

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Yes."

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"One hundred times smaller?"

You

Keep the money.

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"Yes. It is."

You

"Actually, I might be."

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"Money is what grown up people use to pay for things. Things like this hostel room or..." He peeks into the ledger: "...or eight bottles of 'Potent Blend' and nine packs of 'Royal Extra'. We use it for everything, really."

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You

"No, I'm just getting my bearings."

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"Money is what grown up people use to pay for things. Things like this hostel room or..." He peeks into the ledger: "...or eight bottles of 'Potent Blend' and nine packs of 'Royal Extra'. We use it for everything, really."

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"What are you, brain-damaged?"

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You

"Sounded like extortion to me."

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"You know, I get this all the time. Some hobo comes in here, or some backpacking asshole off the boat. The next day when they can't make their fees they get aggressive. I just never thought I'd be in this shit with a cop. Please, just give me the money..."

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He turns to you, calmly. "We do not need to assert ourselves here. We only need instructions from him. This is the proprietor, remember?"

You

"Alright, calm down. What is this about?"

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"Alright, calm down Cafeteria Manager, what is this about?"

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"You know, I get this all the time. Some hobo comes in here, or some backpacking asshole off the boat. The next day when they can't make their fees they get aggressive. I just never thought I'd be in this shit with a cop. Please, just give me the money..."

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He turns to you, calmly. "We do not need to assert ourselves here. We only need instructions from him. This is the proprietor, remember?"

You

"What's real?"

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"Oh, excuse me. You owe me 130 reál." He pronounces the 'r' with a mock aristocratic accent.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Oh, excuse me. You owe me 130 reál." He pronounces the 'r' with a mock aristocratic accent.

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The IIR or interisolary reál is the global reserve currency. Whatever part of the world you're in right now, it's safe to assume he means you owe him some money.

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"What's real?"

Encyclopedia

The IIR or interisolary reál is the global reserve currency. Whatever part of the world you're in right now, it's safe to assume he means you owe him some money.

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"Oh, excuse me. You owe me 130 reál." He pronounces the 'r' with a mock aristocratic accent.

You

"By real do you mean some form of street cred?"

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"No, you don't owe me street cred. You owe me money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"No, you don't owe me street cred. You owe me money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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"By real do you mean some form of street cred?"

You

"Oh, I understand, you mean I owe you money."

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"Wow, you're a genius! Yes, that's right -- money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Wow, you're a genius! Yes, that's right -- money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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"Oh, I understand, you mean I owe you money."

You

"Reál sounds like some fancy skin care product... but why would I owe you one hundred and thirty of them?"

Conditional

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"You owe me money, not a skin care product. Money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"You owe me money, not a skin care product. Money. You owe this establishment 130 reál." He points to the red ledger on the counter.

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"Reál sounds like some fancy skin care product... but why would I owe you one hundred and thirty of them?"

Conceptualization

Reál? Must be cosmetics. Probably a body milk.

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Not so fast." He points to you. "You owe me 130 reál."

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You

"Why did Sylvie go away?"

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Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Haven't you asked me that already? What is it with you and this woman? She has nothing to do with this. "

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You

"You're right."

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"Yes, I am."

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"Haven't you asked me that already? What is it with you and this woman? She has nothing to do with this. "

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Yes, I am."

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"You're right."

You

"No, before I asked you where. Now I'm asking you why she left."

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"Okay, you got me. She went away because of the dead body out back -- and because I asked for her number. That's why Sylvie went away. I hope you appreciate that..."

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"Haven't you asked me that already? What is it with you and this woman? She has nothing to do with this. "

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"Okay, you got me. She went away because of the dead body out back -- and because I asked for her number. That's why Sylvie went away. I hope you appreciate that..."

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"Thank you," the lieutenant says. He opens his little notebook at the cover. The number is safely tucked away in a small pocket.

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Kim Kitsuragi

"Thank you," the lieutenant says. He opens his little notebook at the cover. The number is safely tucked away in a small pocket.

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You

"Didn't go well?"

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"I asked an employee out. She didn't want to come, but felt obliged to. It was a bad idea. Now what is so god damn fascinating about that for you? It's got nothing to do with the lynching."

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"Thank you," the lieutenant says. He opens his little notebook at the cover. The number is safely tucked away in a small pocket.

Garte, the Cafeteria Manager

"I asked an employee out. She didn't want to come, but felt obliged to. It was a bad idea. Now what is so god damn fascinating about that for you? It's got nothing to do with the lynching."

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