Her accent was distinctly British, although Mandy hadn't the faintest idea how to tell what part of the country she was from.Her accent was distinctly British, although Mandy hadn't the faintest idea how to tell what part of the country she was from. "Just Jerry is fine," Jerrold added. While also British, his accent was distinctly different, somehow sounding more aristocratic to Mandy's ears. He was tall and thin, with a somewhat hollow face and thinning brown hair. "Pleased to meet you, Just Jerry... Billy" Mandy answered, "This is Flora, and Jason, and I'm Mandy." They shook hands all around. "I'm afraid they're terribly shorthanded, so drinks are going to take a while," Billy said. She seemed to be examining Flora's cleavage, or at least her purple patent jacket. "You'd think they would bring in extra help for a convention," Jason commented, just to be saying something. They continued to make small talk until a cocktail waitress arrived. She seemed to be in support of the convention, since she wore a large button that read, "SPANNER SUCKS". "So," Billy started in, after the drinks had been ordered, "what brings you Yanks to England?" She had a slightly loud, flamboyant manner, which Jason had at first taken to be one drink too many. Now he saw that that was just the way she was. "Really, it was the convention that gave us the excuse," Mandy replied, "but I was ready for a vacation anyway. We ah, had a bit too much excitement around the old homestead lately, and it seemed like it might be a good break for all of us." "Hah! I smell a story!" bellowed Billy, while heads turned in the bar, somewhat to Jason's chagrin. He glanced at Flora, and found her staring in rapt fascination at Billy. Obviously, she wasn't put off by the boisterous woman's style at all. But then, he reminded himself, she IS a bit of an exhibitionist herself- she looks like she's enjoying this. He noticed too, that Mandy and Billy were doing all the talking, and that Jerry, like Jason and Flora, seemed to be waiting for something to come out of the conversation between the two dominants, like dogs under a table waiting for a scrap to be dropped. |