Dirk and Nigel at the local coffee shop

"Can you believe this rubbish Nigel?" a dark haired man quips tossing an Anne Rice novel onto the orange oblong table.  Nigel looks up at the dark hair man over square glasses and sips tea out of a black coffee mug. 
         "Well, Dirk, do you want the herd looking in coffee shops and book stores for our kind? Or would you rather them continue to stalk back alleyways looking for flamboyant playboys in 16th century get ups?"
         "You have a point Nigel, but does she really have to make us all out to be partially homosexual and overwhelmed with oceans of emotions?"
         "You have had your fair share of 'Lestat' fits Dirk."
         Dirk shoots Nigel a dirty look and sits down across from him.  The stiff wooden chair made Dirk squirm and writhe.  "How can you stand this place, their chairs are dreadful."
         "Yes, but the coffee is the best in town."
         "Don't you end up yakking that all up later?"
         "Well yes, but my god, twenty seconds of violent puking is worth the hour I sit here and enjoy it."
         "I don't get you Nigel. I just don't. How in the hell did we ever become friends?"
         "I killed your blood crush on that red head in 1906."
         "Oh yes, I remember.  You know, I still never truly forgave you for that."
         "No, but you did thank me."
         "Yeah, but I never forgave you."
         "Now you are splitting hairs."
         Dirk squirms in his chair some more as a waitress makes her way over to them.  He looks up and sees the waitress and stops moving instantly.  Tilting his head to one side he takes in the young woman.  Very small heels, just enough to make the “click” sound.  Tight black pants glide gently over her curvy hips.  Her pink baby tee was just small enough to show a teasing of mid-drift.  Pale skin peppered with faint freckles. 
         A slow smirk work its way across Dirk's lips as he looked up past her pushed up chest.  Blaze red hair fell in loose curls down to her neck line. 
         “Pick your damn jaw up off the floor, she hates to be starred at.” Nigel interjects from the other side of the Anne Rice novel. 
         Dirk rights himself in his chair and smooths his black shirt down a little as the waitress approaches them.           “Y'all waiting for someone or just you two?” she questions with a wink. 
         Nigel laughs a little as Dirk is clearly shaken. “No, no, it's just us tonight.” Nigel replies. Looking up at Dirk “Right honey?”
         Fire bursts into Dirk's eyes. “We are not together. I mean, we are, but we are not gay.”
         The waitress giggles “I'm not here to judge, I'm just here to get y'all some coffee. So you two like some? Maybe a Dater's Delight? It's made with all kinds of aphrodisiacs and comes in one cup to share.” she jokes as she nudges Dirk on the shoulder.
         Dirk shoots Nigel another dirty look.
         The waitress nudges Dirk again “Relax killer, I'm just joking. No harm no foul right?”
         With a sigh, Dirk replies “Yeah, you are right.  I've never been good at being the butt of a joke.”
         “Well enough about butts, coffee?”
         Nigel snorts taking the last swig of his tea.  “Yes dear, I would like your hot white raspberry tea with a drop or two of honey.”
         “And for you grumpy?”
         “I'll have a house roast.”
         “Are you sure hon, it isn't that good.”
         “I'm not much on flavor, I just want the perk.”
         “I gotcha hon.  Ok, one house, one white razz with honey, and I'll be right back.” The waitress smiles at them both and walks away shaking her hips.
         “You really have to do that don't you? What do men call that these days?”
         “Cock blocking?”
         “That's it! You're a cock blocker!”
         “Only when it will get a rise out of you and a laugh out of her.”
         “Where are we hunting tonight?”
         “Eh, I was thinking we could follow old Mrs. Rice here and hunt in Lestat's turf.  See if we could run into any of these characters.”
         “Sounds like fun.” Dirk smirks and pulls out a twenty and lays it down on the table.
         “That's one hell of a tip for a house Dirk.”
         “Yeah, but she is going to need a lot of OJ and cookies in the morning.”
         “You are awful, just horrible I tell you.”
         “What do you expect out of a damned creature?”
         Laughing Nigel shuts the Anne Rice novel, stands up and drops another twenty on the table. “Shall we?”
         “We shall.” Dirk stands up and they both walk out the door.
         A bell jingling on the front door is the only sign of the two when the waitress walks back to the table with their order.  Looking around franticly she sets the tray down, picks up the forty dollars, and begins speaking into the air with a finger over her ear.  “Alpha and Delta are on the move.  I think Delta took the bait.  Yes sir, I am.”