Kit And The Art Of Thieving (On Hold)

its probably for arrival

Kit Walker was an honest sort of guy. Perhaps he was a little bit of a dick and a little bit too blunt for his own good, but, as his mother always said, at least he was an honest sort of dick. Still, in the grand scheme of things, which were appropriately dubbed The-Masterplans-Of-Shit-That-Liked-To-Fuck-Him-Over--that was probably better than being known as the reason #dickish was a thing.

His honesty, or the lack thereof, really didn't come as a surprise to anyone. It went hand in hand with his... Things. You know, like his black thing. And his male thing. And his not wholly straight thing. Those Capital 'T' Things just loved conspiring with The Plans to make his life that tiny bit more #hellish.

Fun.

Anyway, all of this was to say that when the barista in front of him, a shortish slightly pimply looking college student he vaguely recognized from his dorm--he was pretty sure it was the Asian kid who always looked ten seconds away from committing some form of homicide in the room down the hall--suddenly stopped repeating his order to stutter out, "what the fuck is that?!" with a wide-eyed stare, Kit immediately replied with: "Art. And it's a Brontosaurus, not a penis", honestly thinking (ie. believing) that the barista had been talking about his 'dinosaurs were dicks too' tee and not, like, saying 'what-the-fuck-is-that' in a 'what-the-fuck-are-you' kind of way. Which would be kinda bad. Not to mention rude. If the dude had never seen a black man up close before, he had a problem and Kit had neither the time nor the energy to educate him on the intricacies of Black America. It was the twenty-first century for fucks sake. Watch Roots or something.

The barista, though, only gave Kit a blank look for his trouble, and yeah okay, that was a little weird. Kit had figured the guy would laugh or at least roll his eyes good-naturedly since most guys Kit's age were the type to find dick jokes hilarious even when they really, really weren't, but the guy didn't. Didn't even crack a smile. Instead, the barista just looked at Kit like he'd grown a second head and started reciting Shakespeare to the tune of Taylor Swift. Last he checked he was not that crazy. He was just sleep-deprived and stressed and would literally kill for a double shot espresso. Especially since his Art History midterm was going to start in, oh, ten minutes. Dammit.

"What?" Kit finally asked, tugging at the neck of his tee. "Not a fan of dinosaurs? Or is it mornings that've got your panties in a twist?"

Wimpy Barista - 0, Clever Kit - 1

The barista--Demo--Kit read off of the name tag's precise blocky lettering (and wasn't that a unique name), scrunched up his nose in not so subtle disdain. "I don't care about your fetishized dino," he said in a voice that was a lot deeper than Kit had expected from such a little guy, "even if I do think it's weird as fuck."

Weird? Kit scoffed, glancing down at his shirt. Dick the Brontosaurus was plastered against it, standing in proud 2D with his dopey phallic face. Poor Dick was always being judged by his looks, never mind the fact that Dick was about as adorable as he was disturbing. Despite that, he still kept smiling. Kit was in awe. Dick wasn't weird he was misunderstood! Dick deserved a medal! Dick deserved--

Kit stared down at his Brontosaurus for another moment. Okay... On second thought, weird was probably putting it nicely. Kit would give the guy that. Rude as fuck but true.

He still loved Dick though.

Cranky Barista - 1, Cantankerous Kit - 1

"It's not a fetish, man," Kit said, looking back up and crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He rocked on the balls of his feet, "it's a statement and a social experiment," he curled his lip as he swayed, "and now I feel like I should be mildly offended. Y'know, on Dick's behalf." And like, wow. Talk about a non-existent brain to mouth filter. This was why Kit didn't do mornings. Or all-nighters. Or anything without at least two cups of coffee in his system.