"Nope, none at all. Told her I felt like I was going to throw up, and she pretty much flung me out of the office and slammed the door behind me. See you around, Stan."
He gets waved off with a "See you around, asshole" directed at him, although Tosh gets a much more pleasant wave and a "Nice to meet you!" before Stan returns to his storyboarding. Ginsberg briefly wonders what pitch he's working on, and then shakes his head to clear it. Of course, it's the same damn pitch he'd been working on the last time Ginsberg had seen him -- time hasn't passed here, though over six months had passed in the City. That's going to take some getting used to. He'll have to be careful not to slip up and say something that makes it sound like he's been gone for a long time, although even if he does, people'll probably just chalk it up to his inherent oddness.
"Okay," he says, turning back to Tosh, eager look on his face, like he's delighted to have her here (and he really, really is. It's a little embarrassing, in fact.) "What do you want to do first? I mean, do you want to be shown around the city? Do you want to get something to eat? Do you want to... I mean, whatever you want to do, it's up to you."
Honestly, it's pretty flattering to have someone be that openly pleased to have her around, and Tosh has to resist the strongest urge to hug him for that eager look. Instead, she grins back at him and takes a deep breath, looking around the people they pass as they head down to the entrance. It's sort of weird all of a sudden, the realization that she's here for good, that at some point, somehow, she'll just up and vanish from her life in her own time. That she'll have to learn how to live in this time, which is neither quiet familiar enough nor quite alien enough to be entirely comfortable yet.
"Something to eat sounds perfect. Sort of...ease back into the normal world, you know? I keep catching myself wondering things like why everyone looks so much the same, why I can't hear the clock ticking, whether I'm going to step out onto the street and into an invasion of talking rabbits or something."
"Okay, we can get something to eat, and then maybe we can see about getting you some new clothes. Not that you look bad at all, I don't mean that, and I wouldn't be one to judge anyway, based on how I dress, but all I mean is that you probably need more than one outfit, and maybe you'd want to get some things that helped you ease back into the normal world. If you can call this the normal world. I mean, there aren't talking rabbits here, as far as I know, but there's a whole lot of other weird shit going on."
Is it obvious that he's slightly uncomfortable trying to figure out exactly what she'll need while she's here? It's not like she's just on vacation -- this is where she's going to live, and she'll need somewhere to live and a job and clothes that fit in at least somewhat and... it's all incredibly overwhelming. He has to pause for a moment and shake his head.
"Okay. Food first, dealing with everything else later."
"God, I hadn't even thought about all of that." And she's going to have to do it on Ginsberg's dime, too, because nobody here is going to accept currency printed forty years in the future, and she doesn't exactly have a credit rating. "Just a couple of necessities til I get on my feet. I suppose it's going to be a challenge getting the sort of work I'm used to, isn't it?"
That being the sort of work that even in the twenty-first century, women are still far outnumbered by men.
"Food first," she agrees, putting her arm through his without thinking about it, as much for her reassurance as for his. "And then we'll worry about all the other little things."
He hasn't really thought about the money issue, either, and now he's starting to. He doesn't make a whole lot at SC&P -- for god's sake, he still lives with his father, after all. And that's a whole other concern. Where is she going to live? If he lived on his own, he could bring her home with him and let her stay there, but in the tiny apartment he shares with his dad? Even if his dad were okay with the notion, which he just might be, there's no way he'd subject Tosh to his father. And there's no way he'd be able to deal with the constant teasing and expectant announcements of their impending marriage, or something equally ridiculous. No, he'll have to find somewhere else for her to live.
"It might be. I mean, I've never really looked for jobs in your area of work. But this is New York, there's everything here, we'll find you something. Keep in mind, you've got forty years of technology knowledge on these guys! You can just go into the interview and blow them away with a concept of how to build something they've never even heard of, much less figured out how to make."
The arm linked with his is nice, and it increases his confidence a little as they walk down the street towards his favorite deli. He knows it's not particularly exciting, not the height of fancy New York cuisine, and so he feels compelled to explain himself. "I figured you might want to have the authentic experience of working around here, and a lot of us from work eat here. It's good. Not too expensive. Not that I'd take you somewhere, you know, cheap."
Cheap in terms of expense, maybe, but never cheap as a synonym for inferior. He has more pride than that.
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He gets waved off with a "See you around, asshole" directed at him, although Tosh gets a much more pleasant wave and a "Nice to meet you!" before Stan returns to his storyboarding. Ginsberg briefly wonders what pitch he's working on, and then shakes his head to clear it. Of course, it's the same damn pitch he'd been working on the last time Ginsberg had seen him -- time hasn't passed here, though over six months had passed in the City. That's going to take some getting used to. He'll have to be careful not to slip up and say something that makes it sound like he's been gone for a long time, although even if he does, people'll probably just chalk it up to his inherent oddness.
"Okay," he says, turning back to Tosh, eager look on his face, like he's delighted to have her here (and he really, really is. It's a little embarrassing, in fact.) "What do you want to do first? I mean, do you want to be shown around the city? Do you want to get something to eat? Do you want to... I mean, whatever you want to do, it's up to you."
no subject
"Something to eat sounds perfect. Sort of...ease back into the normal world, you know? I keep catching myself wondering things like why everyone looks so much the same, why I can't hear the clock ticking, whether I'm going to step out onto the street and into an invasion of talking rabbits or something."
no subject
Is it obvious that he's slightly uncomfortable trying to figure out exactly what she'll need while she's here? It's not like she's just on vacation -- this is where she's going to live, and she'll need somewhere to live and a job and clothes that fit in at least somewhat and... it's all incredibly overwhelming. He has to pause for a moment and shake his head.
"Okay. Food first, dealing with everything else later."
no subject
That being the sort of work that even in the twenty-first century, women are still far outnumbered by men.
"Food first," she agrees, putting her arm through his without thinking about it, as much for her reassurance as for his. "And then we'll worry about all the other little things."
no subject
"It might be. I mean, I've never really looked for jobs in your area of work. But this is New York, there's everything here, we'll find you something. Keep in mind, you've got forty years of technology knowledge on these guys! You can just go into the interview and blow them away with a concept of how to build something they've never even heard of, much less figured out how to make."
The arm linked with his is nice, and it increases his confidence a little as they walk down the street towards his favorite deli. He knows it's not particularly exciting, not the height of fancy New York cuisine, and so he feels compelled to explain himself. "I figured you might want to have the authentic experience of working around here, and a lot of us from work eat here. It's good. Not too expensive. Not that I'd take you somewhere, you know, cheap."
Cheap in terms of expense, maybe, but never cheap as a synonym for inferior. He has more pride than that.