||Lupin III x Reader Oneshots||

Bartender || Jigen

(No Gender x Jigen, Before and Reference to Legend of Babylon film, long ass one)

You heard this comment a million times before:
you seem young to be a bartender.

At first, you found it quite flattering, especially from foreigners of the city.

Now, after a couple of months, it's only annoying. Most people use it to flirt, others use it to tell you off about your life choices. Like their's are any different.

Even if it was a compliment that meant well, it's still annoying all together: being treated differently than your co-workers just for how you look age-wise. Conversations aren't long and you're expected to be nothing more than a teenage dirtbag.

I'm not even that young than how they mistake me as, you think to yourself seeing that you are in your mid-twenties.

You sigh and look across the bar and restaurant, seeing that it's fairly empty other than a few couples and family get togethers at the french cuisine. You can see at the large window up front that it's pouring outside.

It's always slow in August.
Shit... and it's raining too huh?

Just then a man with a beard barges into the restaurant, drenched.

He looks pissed about it too, walking rudely past the reservation stand. Luckily, the restaurant lets the food and bar be separate entities.

His hands were in his pockets and every step sounded like his feet were sloshing in his own waterboarded shoes. People glared at him, your manager at the stand included, but only briefly as something poking from behind the mans pocket made them look away. Their eyes would widen and dart away, suddenly minding their own businesses.

The man sits down onto the stool with his elbows crossed onto the table. His dripping fedora hid his eyes, but you felt his gaze.

"C-C-Can I get you a towel?" You ask, internally cringing. Did I just stutter? Really?

"No, no."
The man dismisses with lousy flick of his wrist.
"Just gin on rocks, please."

You mouth was left gaped open momentarily, but then with a nod.

"Right away." You respond quietly, about to grab a glass. But then you flinch from your forgetfulness.

"Ah your name? For your tab?"

He was cold and wet, but that man still smiled back at you, a monkey-like grin that didn't quite fit his face.

"Jigen."

You were quick with it.

"It's slow in the fall huh?"
He commented as you placed his cup in front of him.
Small talk?

"From now 'til Thanksgiving."
You dryly chuckled.

"Tch, Thanksgiving." The man takes a sip of a his drink. "What a sour holiday to celebrate."

It wasn't apparent, but you noticed he had a small accent, a punctual dialect.
And to talk about a national holiday so unfamiliarly... a tourist?
No, it'd be rude to ask.

"What brings you here?"
You ask while fidgeting with a glass and towel.

"The weather." Jigen says with a dry chuckle. Despite the charming smile, you were afraid to laugh. You only shook your head with a grin and a short sigh.

"Nah," Jigen sighs with a smile. "Just a wild day, needed a place to relax in once in a while."

"Busy day?" You off-handedly say.
"What do you do?"