Dinner, Drinks and Dudes - Ben tags Josh/Miles

Miles was well dressed, as always, with a cobalt-blue button down shirt tucked into well-fitting jeans with a black belt and a medium sized buckle. He wore a solid black fedora, and rather shiny black shoes, the one part of his outfit which he payed a considerable amount for. His watch was inexpensive but nice. In consideration of the weather, this outfit was covered by a solid black trench coat.

Miles and Ben had only met briefly a few days ago, but Miles appreciated the man's demeanor, and was quite interested in meeting new people around Pilot Ridge. He was quite looking forward to dinner, and fully intended to make a good impression both upon his host, and the other guest. What was his name again? Josh? Joshua Bernstein

Approaching the two story house of his new acquaintance, Miles noticed a young woman leaving, and waved kindly at her as they passed. He hummed to himself, thinking happily about the prospect of getting connected to the community. He pulled a hand out of his coat pocket to ring the doorbell, and was warmed by the welcome smell of lasagna as the child psychologist opened the door.

"Good evening," Miles smiled warmly, stepping into the the house, which was much warmer than the street outside, "nice place you have here. Do I smell lasagna?"

Miles was again impressed by Ben's courtesy, as the man helped him with his hat and coat. Even without the smell of lasagna, house and host would have been inviting. The addition of a warm smelling delicious meal did nothing but add to the appeal of the scenario. Miles' stomach rumbling in happy anticipation.

As Ben offered him a beer, Miles' opinion of the man rose to even greater heights. Miles had grown up in a family with very traditional views of hospitality, and Ben was playing the part of gracious host perfectly. (it didn't hurt that Ben returned from the kitchen with Guinness.) Throw in a good sporting conversation and some light discussion of business and we'll have a fast friendship. I'll have to remember to return the favor of hosting sometime. Maybe once I get unpacked from the move-in, I'll invite Ben to my place.

Ben quite appropriately started a conversation about the Superbowl, and Miles responded with all the resignation of an American man who's football team has just lost. "I was rooting for the Steelers. I've been a rooting for them ever since my previous favorite, the Giants, dropped my favorite player 10 years ago. But these things happen, and I know we'll get them next time. I'm sure of it. But it was an exciting game, whomever you were rooting for. Are you a fan of either of them?"


He popped open his beer, and took a small sip, smiling in contentment. "that hits the spot. By the way, who is this Josh I'm about to meet?"

Miles looked up at the door as the doorbell rang hoping that this Joshua Bernstein fellow was as friendly as Ben had painted him in their earlier conversation. If Ben Rhodes was any indication, Josh and Miles would get along swimmingly.

[OOC: Gonna be out till monday ]

Having grown up with a mother who stressed on the importance of hospitality, all of the Rhodes boys [including Ben's youngest cousin Andrew] had instilled the same high regard for hospitality in themselves even till now. So being a gracious host came to the middle aged psychologist quite effortlessly.

"Packers, through and through." Ben grinned. "My whole family is a huge Packers fan. I was actually supposed to watch it with them but um...circumstances changed." What an understatement. The idea he had was doomed right from the start; he was surprised both Cobalt and Riley actually went through with it. He still felt uncomfortably guilty over it and even though Josh had forgiven him, Ben was still trying to work up the courage to apologise to Sean.

His cowardice was uncalled for. They were adults and Ben knew Sean was a reasonable man and wouldn't hold grudges but it didn't stop Ben from thinking that Sean reminded him a lot of his eldest brother, Artie who would probably skewer the younger Rhodes boy if he ever pulled something like that on him.

"Josh? He's-" the doorbell rang. Josh and his impeccable timing. "You'll find out soon enough." Ben grinned and went to answer the door. It was still a little awkward seeing Josh post stupid intervention but Ben was pretty determined not to screw this up. The sight of the smaller man a little harried wasn't something he had expected. A little part of him was afraid the man was still having some residual backlash from the last time he was standing here.

Shrugging the thought off, Ben ushered Josh in, divesting him of his coat. "You look...cold. Miles is in the living room. I promise it's just the three of us." He laughed awkwardly before stopping completely. "Too soon. Um, you should join him. I'll get you a can." They walked to the living room where Ben introduced Miles to Josh. "I'm going to check on the lasagna then we can get dinner done." He smiled before rushing to the kitchen.

"Cold? In the winter in the snow? What an idea." Josh replied as Ben took his coat.

His smile slid off at the reminder of the previous Sunday. "Mmm. I should hope so." He replied, unable to keep an edge of hostility out of his voice. Ben had apologized, and Josh disliked conflicts with his friends, but he still hadn't quite recovered from that embarrassment.

He followed the other man into the living room, trying to recapture his good spirits. At least Miles seemed friendly enough. "A pleasure," He returned, taking the proffered hand. "I'm Joshua Bernstein. And yes, dinner and Guinness are one of Ben's better ideas."

He grimaced at the mention of the Super Bowl. "Ah. Yes. The Super Bowl is a topic I would prefer to avoid, myself." He grumbled. Fortunately, Miles obliged and changed topics to something much less controversial.

"Funny you should mention it," He perked up, "I was just down at the local jazz station the other day. Some poor intern decided to ruin their records and they required help salvaging. I wouldn't have said I was a fan, but you know, it turns out it isn't half-bad. I still don't know who any of the artists are, though." He admitted with a laugh. "Feel free to educate me."

Miles filed the superbowl into the back of his mind as a topic to avoid in future conversations with these folk, and only briefly wondered as to the reasons for this. Deciding that these people were grown men who could handle their own problems in a mature and civilized manner, Miles promptly forgot about the issue, settling into his favorite avenue of conversation. Jazz

"Jazz is a wonderful genre, and it has earned my love for many reasons. One of them is that, in jazz, all the big names are big for a reason. Armstrong, Davis, Fitzgerald, Coltrane, all them are amazing artists, and entirely worthy of their reputations. Jazz can be soothing or exciting, engaging or pleasantly confined to the background."

Miles could have continued to expound upon the wonders of Jazz for a good deal longer, but he recognized that most people would not be interested in hearing his snowballing monologue about the wonders of Jazz.

He gladly followed Ben into the kitchen and into the welcoming smell of lasagna, as he relaxed into pleasant conversation. "Beer would be nice, thanks."

"So Ben," Miles asked as the he sat down, "would you care to tell me more about your job?"

When both men opted for beer, Ben nodded and got out his small box filled to the brim with ice and a few bottles of beer. They were in for a long night. They might as well enjoy it.

Sitting down, Ben cut into the lasagna into portions for all three of them, serving it on to the plates before digging into his. Miles' query about his job made him chew a little faster. He laughed lightly at Josh's surprise. "Yeah, no we met just a few days ago at a pub. We got to talking and he told me he worked at Hammel and he knew Sean so...I figured why not meet you?" Ben shrugged before turning to Miles to reply to the original question.

"There's actually nothing much to tell besides me being a child psychologist. I don't actually write out prescriptions. I'm...a glorified baby sitter for troubled kids." He shrugged. "But it's not as boring as it sounds, mind you." Ben chuckled. "You know, Josh I never actually asked you what you do. I mean I know you're a lawyer but what made you narrow it to civil rights?"

"I am extremely uncultured," Josh confessed, "All you have to do in order to find out what I listen to is turn on the oldies station." Or the country station, but he wasn't admitting to that to someone he'd just met, not when the very words country music station were enough to cause most people to recoil in horror.

"Ah, you work at Hammel, I see." He prodded at his lasagna; then any complaints he had about the school were off limits tonight. He still hoped to find someone other than Cobalt who agreed with him that Hammel's monopoly needed to be broken, but Miles was probably not going to be it. Every meta who wasn't his shadow manipulator friend adored the school.

"We've been friends for awhile," He narrowed his eyes pointedly at Ben, warning him not to add to that statement. "We were roommates in college." Nice, normal, absolutely in no way unusual friends, thank you very much BEN.

He realized he was glaring at his food and smoothed his features into a smile. "Oh! I've always been interested in human rights. That's how Sean and I became friends, we were both interested in making sure everyone's rights were respected, changing the world, that kind of thing." He shrugged. "I suppose you could blame my parents, really, they always impressed upon me and my siblings how important civil rights were. I know, that isn't a very exciting reason. What about the two of you?"