FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Leaving the facility took weight off my shoulders. As much as I appreciated seeing an old friend, that room was too cramped for my liking, and being in any prison is uncomfortable. I grabbed my keys from the guard on the way out and took in the fresh air. It was about 11 AM, and I had the rest of the day to myself. It seemed only right to enjoy it.

I drove around downtown aimlessly for a bit, looking at the store fronts and passersby as I cruised. Whisker's Pub and Grill was closed at this hour, and I saw a young rat-man sweeping up dirt and broken glass from the front of the building. The 2nd Street Department Store, or 2Deep as most knew it, seemed to be bustling with activity. Most of the customers seemed to be human, and it seemed as if many were exchanging unwanted gifts received during the holiday.

The idea of bringing in a gift for exchange always irked me. It's one thing if a gift is the wrong size or something, but taking it back because you just don't like it, or because you like something else more seems ungrateful in my eyes. People should value what they get from their loved ones, you never know if this is the last holiday you spend together.

There were a few new and unfamiliar storefronts as well. I passed a new pet shop on 5th street, where I saw a little boy holding a small puppy. They also finally refurbished the pizzeria on 6th, a former Capodano property, and an elderly rat-man I recognized from my old life was working behind the counter. Maybe a quick stop to get lunch and say hello was in order? I wasn't in the mood for pizza, though, so I figured I'd visit another day.

What did catch my eye, however, was the new coffee shop on the corner of 8th and Main. "Coffee King" was an eccentric business, to say the least, with signs written both in broken English and Mandarin. I had skipped coffee that morning, and I figured that would be a good excuse to check out and support a local business.

As anticipated, the café had an Asian sense of décor. Each table had ornate complicated designs painted on the top, and all of them took the shape of an octagon. The walls featured Chinese writing that I didn't understand, and the room was lit by paper lamps that varied in color based on placement in the room. The building itself was crowded, for I had unknowingly entered at the peak of the yuppie lunch-break rush.

A young rat-woman with brown fur came in and filed behind me. My first thought was to ignore her and focus on figuring out what to order, but as the minutes crawled by, I took a second glance out of boredom. She looked to be carrying a laptop, and underneath a winter jacket, she sported a Steed band shirt. Angelo had actually introduced me to Steed during my first drug run, so I figured I'd strike up a conversation to piss away the time.

"I like the shirt."

The woman's eyes darted around the room for a second, then pointed towards herself. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah, I like the shirt. Steed, right? My old boss introduced me to them a couple of years ago."

The rat woman shrank a bit and offered a tepid "Yeah. Steed."

Christ, talk about awkward. Maybe those knuckleheads at the repair shop were right, what kind of opener is "I like the shirt"? What the hell was I thinking?

I didn't open my mouth again until I reached the register. The woman at the register glared straight through me and asked "What do you want, sir?"

"Just a medium black coffee, please."

"That's gonna be two dollars."

I forked over the cash from my wallet and grabbed my receipt, sitting down at the nearest empty table, which happened to be under the pink lights. I'll just wait here for my coffee and then leave, I thought. No need to embarrass myself more than I already have.

I watched from the corner of my eye as the rat-girl talked to the cashier. At first, after placing her order, they spoke in whispers. The cashier pointed at me with a foul look, and I mentally prepared myself for the embarrassment of getting kicked out. Then the conversation shifted to one of surprise, then of laughter, and finally reassurance, as the cashier placed a hand on the rat-girl's shoulder.

Then, things took an odd turn. The rat-girl approached my table. "Is this seat taken?"

I thought she was creeped out, why was she over here? "Uhh, no. You could take it if you want."

"Thanks." She sat down at my table. "Sorry if I made things weird earlier, I don't get noticed by strangers all too much. I kinda shut down for a second."

It seemed like I was talking to a completely different girl, where did this change of attitude come from? I glanced over at the cashier, who seemed to be swamped with orders. "It's uh... it's no problem. So how did you get into Steed?"

"I used to think it was total dad-rock, and my own dad used to play the older albums in the car all the time. When I got his old CDs a few years ago, though, I resonated with the Stallions album, and I've been a fan since."

Alright, I thought. This was something I could work with. "What a great record. I was at one of their reunion concerts once, you know?"

The rat girl's eyes widened. "Are you talking about the one at River Bar amphitheater? My dad asked me to go to that one! He had tickets but I blew it off to see a movie with my girlfriends." Her voice lowered. "I really regret that I didn't go, it was one of the last things I could have done with him."

Oh. That was downer. "Is he, uh, not around anymore?"

"I'm not going to be seeing him any time soon, that's for sure."

"Believe me. I get it. My parents died in a car crash when I was in High School. It sucks to lose a parent, especially so young."

Silence hung in the air for a little bit, only broken when the serving boy came to give us our coffee. I had a sip of my own. It was a huge step up from the instant coffee shit I made from home. It had a much richer taste without being too bitter for my palate. The perfect topic to jump-start the conversation again.

"This coffee is really good! Where did you find this place?"

She pointed to the cashier. "My friend Kim over there is the cashier, and her dad owns the place. It's a really nice place to work after lunch." She patted her laptop bag. "Sorry if she stared you down earlier, she's a bit overprotective."

"Hey, she was just trying to have your back. That's what friends are for, after all. Also, I don't think I ever caught your name?"

"My name's Marcia. And yours?"

"A pretty name for a pretty woman. I'm Dominic."

"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" The rat girl blushed and smiled. It quickly shifted into an inquisitive look. "Actually, you look kind of familiar, Dominic. Were you on the news a couple of years ago, by any chance?"

Fuck, I knew that the news about the trial was aired across the whole state, but if I recall correctly, my name was mostly mentioned in passing. Maybe she'd believe something I made up on the spot?

"I own the Auto-Repair Shop on Maple. Maybe you remember me from when I was on during the grand opening?"

"Probably." It looked like she bought it. "So, you own your own business. Do you like it?"

"I like what I do. It's mostly paperwork and management, it's my employees who do most of the repair. It pays pretty well. It's not too interesting, other than that."

"Hey! Don't discount yourself! At least it's honest."

"Just how I like it." I didn't want to incriminate myself while the conversation was so young, so I decided to ask her a question. "You said you like to do your work here, so what about you?"

Marcia's ears folded back and her tail straightened out. "Oh, I'm... in between jobs right now. I got laid off from my last job, at an engineering firm in Low Ridge."

"There's no shame in that, it happens. It's part of why I started my business. You get any interviews lined up, at least?"

"It's still a work in progress. I have a few that are an hour away, but I don't want to commute any further than that regularly. Twinriver is my home, it's where all my friends and family live. I'll move if I have to, but I don't want to go too far if I can help it. Between you and me, I'm a little rusty with my interview skills, and if I mess these up, I might have to go farther."

"You're a smart girl, you've got a good head on your shoulders, and you understand what matters most. I haven't seen your resume, but I don't see why anyone wouldn't hire you. I would, if I thought you'd be interested in a mechanic position. I'm sure your interviews will go on without a hitch."

"You don't- Wait," she paused. "You'd hire me? We've barely met."

"Well, yeah. You're better at talking to strangers than most of my other mechanics. I had to stop one from losing me a customer over a scratch the other day, one I buffed out in 5 minutes. The knucklehead wouldn't stop running his mouth, I had to tell him to buzz off so he didn't make a fool of me. I'd love a worker who I didn't have to teach respect to."

That story got Marcia to giggle, a squeaky, genuine laugh that fit the girl it came from. "Aww, thanks! How would you know I wouldn't be interested, though? Being a mechanic doesn't seem so bad."

I shrugged my shoulders. "It just seemed like you were a little overqualified for the position, is all. Only one of my guys has his associate's, and here you are with an engineering degree. It didn't seem like your kind of thing."

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to go for these last few interviews and see if I can score a job. If not, I'll take you up on the offer and apply for the mechanic position. Deal?"

"Deal." I held out my arm, waiting for a handshake or some other gesture of goodwill.

Instead, Marcia gave me a wink. "What if this is the last time I see you in person? Can I get your cell number at least?"

"That would make things easier." I took out the receipt for the coffee and a pen and handed her my number. "Here."

"Thanks, I'm just gonna send you a quick text to make sure I put this in right." She tapped a couple of characters into her phone and I heard a familiar "ding" from my own phone.

"You know, if you wanted my number so bad you could've just asked."

She smirked. "Come on, it was more fun this way."

Maybe it was. "I'll let you get back to job searching. Call me if those other gigs don't work out. Or call me if they do, we'll celebrate."

"Will do. Nice meeting you, Mr. Dominic."

"The feeling is mutual, Lady Marcia." I took a bow for effect, earning another giggle from my new friend.

"Enough with the flattery. Get outta here!"