Expert Opinion [John/Rin]

[Rin Cooper]

Rin wasn't actually much of a beer drinker. Or rather, she drank beer and enjoyed it just fine but wasn't really into microbrews and imported stouts and all that stuff. Generally if she was having a beer it was because she'd been working hard and wanted that cold-yeast tang that she associated with long afternoons working on cars or doing house repairs with her Dad. They'd always bonded over working with their hands, and the taste of an ice-cold MGD was far preferable to the best 'complex brown ale' in the world, at least as far as she was concerned.

However, Pour 24, the fake-brewpub on the second floor of New York New York was by far the quietest and most laid-back bar in the casino, so that's where Rin had ended up today. She had a pint of Woodchuck hard cider to keep her company and an hour or so to wait until Letty finished up with what she was doing so that they could go out and spend an afternoon hitting the shops and then they were going to watch Lorica's early show because Rin hadn't seen them yet.

She was dressed to cause trouble in a bright red polka dotted dress with her hair tied back in ribbons, a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses shoved up onto the top of her head. Even in Vegas she caught the eye, not because she was the sexiest or even the prettiest girl in the room but because of the vast and cheerful self-confidence in the way she wore the fifties-inspired clothes and watched the world around her. Rin was a happy person, she believed that the world was more often a good place than not, and the world had a tendency to oblige her. Funny the way that worked, and it put an air of bright liveliness around her no matter what she was doing.

And just at this moment what she was doing was snooping into somebody else's business. "Don't do it," she advised the dark-haired man who was flipping through a restaurant supply catalog. "The Frymasters look like a good bargain for the price but they break down constantly, and the filter's for crap. For the same price, get a used Vulcan-Hart, it'll last you forever and a week."
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Music: The Golden Age
Outfit: A red polka dotted dress, with full Lolita accessories.
Notes: No, in fact she doesn't have any sense of minding her business.

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Las Vegas, NV

[John Winchester]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i1095.photobucket.com/albums/i473/shahal_sparda/Rp/johnny-3.png) center bottom no-repeat; outline: 3px double #2c2e3a; width: 500px; height: 601px; padding: 0px;, bTable] Dean was looking over Sam, he had managed to scrape Malaki off for a while since the boy was on the phone with his sister waiting for her to arrive and he was sure that Adam was talking to that Nichole girl again, or Norah, one of the two. The old man was hoping for the latter as opposed to the former, but that was simply because he was still unsure of the blond, probably always would be too. Either way he had himself all to himself for the first time in a few days and John was taking the chance to go ahead and get a good stiff drink. Sitting himself at the bar the old man took the time to leaf through a restaurant supply catalog because he really was serious about opening his own bar, and after his son had brought it up the old man remembered that there was still a few things to get done. Now that he had the chance to breath he sipped a glass of whiskey a flipped through the catalog, dog earring a few pages and circling this and that. The old man was mildly pleased with himself, he was getting work done, which was when a peppy voice broke his smug quietness and he looked up quickly. "Well thanks for the advice doll," John quickly wrote himself a note in the margin to look for the aforementioned firer, "Any other words of wisdom you can share? I'm a late in life bar owner and honestly..." He looked around, like he expected one of his kids to pop up at just that moment because John never mentioned when he was in any sort of trouble and never asked for help or advice, "I'm in just a tad bit over my head," It was said in something that was a bit of a mutter, and a bit of a dry chuckle. He could tell you how to tear apart and put back together the engine of a 67' Chevelle, but hell if he could tell what the difference what half of those Frymasteres in the catalog were aside from price, "Were are my manners? Name's John by the way," He was in a rather chipper mood, he had a good drink in front of him, his plans were moving forward and he had all his children in one piece in one place. Sam was doing better, Adam didn't want his head on a pike and Dean was ever vigilant over his younger brothers, the old man was sure this was as good as things could get for him and he was going to enjoy it, mildly out of place chipper mood and all. [style=padding: 0px 10px; font-size: smaller;] Location: NYNY Casino, Vegas Outfit: The usual Music: Hells Bells -AC/DC Notes: feels good to not be soooooo broody [/style]

[Rin Cooper]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=z-index,1][atrb=style, background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/10wk0wi.jpg) center bottom no-repeat; width: 500px; height: 614px; padding: 0px;, bTable] A low, purring sort of laugh that sounded like sex but which on further acquaintance would just turn out to be a quirk of her voicing. "Hi, John. My name's Rin, and honestly I couldn't be better suited to the task if I'd been raised in a laboratory environment specifically for doing this: butting in to other people's business and telling them how to open and run a bar." She grinned at him and didn't offer any explanation of that, not yet. Instead she leaned over closer to examine the catalog, flipping through it to see what he'd marked with just a slight grin to acknowledge the intrusiveness and impudence of the maneuver. "Okay, so you're looking to do bar food and drinks? Blue collar crowd, more or less?" At his nod, Rin nodded as well. "Pay top dollar for your fryer and griddle, save money on refrigeration and your drinks dispensers and bar equipment. If you're not blending up fresh fruit and imported turbinado sugar to make 'signature' mojitos or stupid stuff like that, you don't need eight hundred dollar blenders at the bar. And you don't need nearly as many taps as the salesmen will tell you that you do." The smile never faded, smiling seemed to be Rin's default state, even as she was very earnest in her instructions. "Common wisdom says that you want to have a zillion beers on tap. But actually you don't, not for a place where people come for a burger and a beer. You want maybe a six-tap setup. Four basic beers--MGD, Bud, Bud Light, and either Coors or Heinekin--and two top-shelf beers. Sam Adams and Guinness, something like that. The rest of the beers you do in bottles. Tapped beers do save you money in the long run, but only if you sell enough of them to offset the initial equipment cost, and unless you're selling yourself as a gastropub or something, you won't. There are only so many people in a day who are desperate for a Rolling Rock or Anchor Steam or Newcastle. Bottles are fine for that." She pursed her lips, thinking. "Put together a menu that's basic and flexible, with maybe one or two novelty or specialty items. Burgers, wings, chili, fresh french fries and onion rings. People love that stuff, it never stops being popular. Build the menu to minimize the ingredients you need to keep on hand daily, that'll save you on cold storage to make up the extra expense for the fryer and grill. And do the math to see if you can do make flat pricing work. It doesn't work for everybody, but if you can make it work it'll make your bookkeeping ten times easier and customers love it." There was more, Rin could easily have talked for another hour on this subject, but she paused long enough to beam at John and ask, "Totally overwhelmed yet?" [style=padding: 15px; font-size: 0.7em;] Music: The Golden Age Outfit: A red polka dotted dress, with full Lolita accessories. Notes: She lives for this. [/style]

Las Vegas, NV