Work Text:
Two Guys Walk into a Bar
February 2024
It was a miserable February night. It had snowed on Saturday, warmed up on Sunday just enough to turn the snow into a slushy mess on every New York street corner, and then dipped down below freezing to make the sidewalks slippery and dangerous. Now it was icing out which meant that Kip and Kyle were working side by side in a mostly empty bar when two attractive and familiar looking men walked in.
“Holy shit,” Kip said.
“What?” Kyle asked him.
“That’s Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander,” Kip said. When Kyle looked at him blankly, he added, “They’re hockey players. They’re also supposed to be like huge rivals or something.”
Kip pulled out his phone to look the players up. He watched enough hockey with his dad to recognize them but it didn’t make sense that they would be in New York, together, and in a gay bar in Chelsea. His quick internet sleuthing told him that they had both been recently traded to two of the local teams.
“Do you think they’re lost?” Kyle asked.
“I don’t know but it’s fucking weird,” Kip said. He moved closer to where they were standing to try and listen in on their conversation. Elena liked to know all the Kingfisher gossip on their weekly videochats and this one was probably going to be juicy.
“This is the place?” Rozanov asked Hollander.
Hollander looked around and nodded.
“I thought you said it was a nice bar,” Rozanov said. “This is a shithole.”
“It was nice. Nicer than this. It must have been Hunter, Eric and…” Hollander trailed off and stared at Kyle. He motioned his head to Rozanov.
“That’s him?” Rozanov said. He was speaking quietly but Kip was standing pretty close and had gotten good at eavesdropping on customers in the bar. Hollander nodded. Something about it sent prickles down Kip’s spine and he moved closer to Kyle protectively when Rozanov and Hollander approached Kyle at the bar. Kyle was Kip’s best friend and these hockey guys didn’t seem menacing, but it was still a little weird.
Kip and Kyle had dated for a hot second back when Kip started working at the Kingfisher seven years ago but it had fizzled fast. Their friendship held and Kip was glad for it. Kip had been working his way through grad school - he started his PhD after finishing his master’s - and Kyle had been a huge support during what was a really stressful experience. Kip was happy to stand next to Kyle and give some of that support back for whatever it was that was happening here.
“Hello, I am Ilya Rozanov. This is my… friend, Shane.”
Shane’s cheeks went pink and he gave a small, pleased smile. Kip thought back to what he knew about these players and their rivalry while he considered that pause before Rozanov said “friend,” and the way Hollander reacted to the introduction. As far as Kip knew, these guys hated each other. It was possible that the pause was because Rozanov didn’t think they were actually friends but everything about their whole vibe was screaming to Kip that it was the opposite. Kip would bet every last dollar in his bank account (all $17 of them) that these guys were together.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Rozanov. I’m Kyle,” Kyle said, making the greeting flirtatious. Kyle had a gift that way.
“Ilya, please,” Rozanov said with a wink. Apparently he had the same gift as Kyle with the flirting. Hollander rolled his eyes.
“What can I get for you guys?” Kip asked. Because it was his job. Rozanov looked at him and did a double-take.
“Oh my goodness, you are Kip! I did not recognize you, your hair is different.”
“Uhh, have we met?” Kip asked.
“Ilya, you’re making it weird,” Shane said.
“It is weird! How can I do this in a way that is not weird?” Ilya said, exasperated.
“By not telling people you’ve never met that you didn’t recognize them?” Hollander said under his breath but loud enough that Kip could hear.
“This was your fucking idea! You do it!” Ilya said.
Shane sighed and looked at Kyle and Kip.
“I know that we might seem like insane people and if I thought you’d believe me, I’d explain it to you but you absolutely won’t believe me. That being said, do you know if the owner would be willing to sell us the bar?”
Kyle’s eyes moved from one hockey guy to the other and back again suspiciously.
“You want to buy a random gay bar that you’ve never been to?” Kyle asked. Then it seemed like a thought occurred to him. “You do know this is a gay bar, right? It’s not some dude-bro sport bar.”
“You have like a million rainbow flags,” Rozanov said, sounding insulted while he pointed to some of those flags. “Of course we know it is a gay bar.”
“Yes, we know it’s a gay bar,” Hollander said more calmly. “We want to make this place into somewhere that people,” he took what looked like a bracing breath before he continued, “like us - queer athletes but just generally queer people - can come for a nice night.”
Kyle’s stance, which had been defensive, softened. Kip was surprised that Kyle hadn’t clocked that these guys were queer when they walked in. He was usually more observant than that.
Hollander continued, looking directly at Kyle now. “And again, I know this is really strange because you don’t know us and we don’t really know you, but Kyle, we’re hoping if the owner will sell it to us, you’ll be the manager. We heard you have a vision for this place and we want you to create it.”
How could they possibly know about Kyle’s vision? Kip did but that’s just because Kyle talked about it non-stop in between complaining about the current owner’s lack of vision. Kip had a million questions, but Kyle just shrugged.
“You want to come in here and hand me my dream on a silver platter, you can be as weird as you want about it. Let me get the owner’s number for you.”
An hour later, Shane and Ilya left the Kingfisher. Before they went, Shane had walked to the door while Ilya stood to his full height looming over Kip and Kyle.
“Neither of us are out publicly. We cannot control what you do but we would prefer to come out on our own terms,” he said menacingly. Kip wanted to be insulted but he got it. Hockey had a reputation as a pretty toxic and homophobic sport.
“We aren’t in the habit of outing people,” he assured Rozanov. Ilya gave a short nod and followed Hollander out of the bar.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Kyle turned to Kip eagerly and said, “They’re totally together, right?”
“Oh 100%,” Kip said.
Kyle laughed and rubbed his hands together.
“This is gonna be fun.”
***
Kyle sent Kip home shortly after Shane and Ilya left. The bar was dead and Kyle knew Kip had to teach the next day. Kip made his way back to the West Harlem apartment he shared with two roommates. It was a shithole but the location was convenient enough for all three of his jobs - a train ride to the Kingfisher and NYU and a bus ride to the Museum of the City of New York, where he finally got a job when he finished his master’s. In a few years he would get his doctorate in history with a concentration in museum studies and hopefully turn that into a career at MCNY. But until then… three jobs.
Three jobs, no boyfriend, no time, and a weariness that never fully left his body. All three jobs were physically exhausting and two of them were also mentally exhausting. When he had a day off, he generally spent it lounging around his apartment - the energy to go out, hang out with his friends, maybe meet a guy, it just didn’t exist. At least he had the Kingfisher. That was social enough that he wasn’t a complete hermit.
He’d thought that once he got his MA he’d feel like he was accomplishing something in his life. And he had for a minute. When he was writing his master’s thesis he was energized by the work and decided to keep on with his studies. But a PhD was harder than a master’s. Kip would finish it eventually, but it was taking longer than he’d have liked. Watching most of his friends move forward with their lives and careers didn’t make it any easier. Elena was getting married this summer. His sister was pregnant with her second kid. Chuck and Jimmy had been promoted and were making the kind of money that 30-somethings should. And now it looked like Kyle was going to get to create his own vision with the Kingfisher. Meanwhile, Kip felt like he was standing still. At least he had been able to move out of his parents’ house.
He got home and crashed into bed. He knew he was just having a bad moment. His dark thoughts were always worse when he was tired. He’d feel better in the morning.
The Gross Smoothie
April 2024
“It needs to be green. And look gross,” Ilya was explaining to Kyle.
They were going over the cocktail menu that Kyle had created in anticipation of the bar’s relaunch next week. They had been going over it for 45 minutes and this was the fourth time Kip heard Ilya explain this stupid cocktail.
“Ilya, nobody is going to want to drink something that looks gross,” Kyle explained right back. For the fourth time.
“But it is called the ‘Gross Smoothie.’ It should look gross. It is in the name,” Ilya said patiently.
“Why am I creating a drink with gross in the name again?” Kyle asked.
“For Shane,” Ilya said. He got that dopey look in his eye that Kip had mixed feelings about. Mostly he thought it was adorable how sloppy in love Ilya was with Shane and that the menacing hockey player could turn into a little puppy at the mention of his boyfriend. (Not that either of them had openly admitted they were dating.) But Kip was also jealous of that look. He didn’t think anyone had ever looked that way about him and he wanted that.
The door to the bar opened and Shane walked in.
“SHHHHHHHH,” Ilya said, like any of them had been talking. He wanted this specialty cocktail to be a surprise. Ilya went to greet Shane. Another man walked in behind Hollander.
“Hellooooo Handsome,” Kyle said when he spotted the second man. “Who is that?”
Kip looked closer. “Are you serious? What New York rock do you live under? That’s Eric Bennett.”
“Is he a hockey player?” Kyle asked.
“Yes, Kyle. He was the goalie for the Admirals for like 20 years. Seriously?”
“You have to know all my hockey knowledge has been accumulated in the last 2 months. I know for sure he isn’t a player right now.”
“No, he retired like five years ago.”
As Kyle continued to drool over Bennett, Kip watched Bennett, Shane, and Ilya talking and tried to figure out the dynamics. It was one of his favorite games as a bartender.
“What do you think?” he asked Kyle, who usually played the game with him. “It looks like Bennett is friends with Shane and not so much Ilya.”
Kyle switched from drooling to investigation mode. He gave the three men his full focus.
“I think Bennett and Shane slept together, but like a long time ago,” Kyle said, shoving Kip’s arm. “Like us!”
“And now they’re friends… like us.” Kip said. He looked back at the hockey players. “Do you think Ilya knows?”
Kyle tilted his head, “Yeah. But his body language is relaxed so I think he’s ok with it. It’s obvious that Shane just has friendship feelings for Bennett.” Kyle concluded. He turned back to Kip. “I wonder how long he and Ilya have been together.” It wasn’t the first time Kyle and Kip had pondered that question. Maybe if/when Shane and Ilya actually admitted they were dating, he would ask. All three men walked over to the bar.
“Kyle, Kip, this is my friend Eric,” Shane said. Yeah, nailed it. My friend, not our friend.
“Hello handsome,” Kyle said, because he wasn’t subtle. Eric blushed.
“Kyle, Eric doesn’t drink but I was hoping you could put together one of your mocktails for him,” Shane said.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can just have a soda water and lime,” Eric said.
Kyle leaned over the bar and fucking batted his eyelashes at Eric. Kip would have been embarrassed for him but Eric gave a shy smile at the attention.
“Let me show off for you, Eric. This is what I’m good at,” Kyle said, turning his charm up to eleven.
“Ok,” Eric said, his smile a little less shy this time. He was a handsome man, in a distinguished professor kind of way. Not Kip’s type but definitely Kyle’s. Kip ended up working at the other end of the bar watching Kyle and Eric flirt for the rest of the night. He wasn’t jealous of Eric - he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Kyle anymore. But he couldn’t remember the last time he had flirted with a handsome man beyond short interactions while he served drinks. He heard Kyle and Eric making a date for the next day and sighed.
Ilya came behind the bar to stand next to Kip, a little too close, and stared him down.
“Why are you jealous?”
“What? I’m not jealous,” Kip lied.
Ilya arched a skeptical eyebrow and gave Kip a look. “You do not have feelings for Kyle. We would not have brought Bennett here if you did,” Ilya said. That was a weird thing to say. It was like they brought Eric for Kyle. But how could Shane and Ilya have known that Eric was exactly Kyle’s type? They had been working together closely for a few months but as far as Kip could tell, it had stayed professional.
“No. We’re friends. If this turns into something, I’ll be happy for him,” Kip said. Ilya continued to stare at him.
“You are lonely,” Ilya said. Again, not a question. Kip didn’t have the energy to deflect this conversation.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted. Ilya nodded.
“I was lonely for many years. I understand.” His eye drifted to Shane and then back to Kip. He put his hand on Kip’s neck in a playful way and smirked. “Your day will come, Kipper!”
Kip rolled his eyes. “Please never call me Kipper again.”
“No! This is your name now,” Ilya gave him that mischievous grin that had become familiar in the last few months. Kip groaned. But he also smiled. He might be a little lonely but he wasn’t alone.
Sadly, No Robots
November 2024
It was the Centaur’s first New York trip of the season and Wyatt was excited to check out the bar that Hollander and Rozanov bought when they got traded here last year. He walked into the Kingfisher and looked around. It wasn’t his first gay bar. Obviously. He’d been to many-a lesbian bar with Kristy, and Ryan Price’s boyfriend was always playing shows in gay bars. If Wyatt wanted to hang out with Ryan, most of the time it meant going to one of Fabian’s shows. Not that it was a hardship. Wyatt loved Fabian’s music, he loved Price, and he was comfortable enough in his own skin that he could walk into a gay bar without having to be weird about it.
He would have dragged Troy along if Hollander and Rozanov hadn’t said they wanted to talk about AU multiverse madness. Troy needed to spend more time in queer spaces, in Wyatt’s opinion. Maybe tomorrow night. Or the next time they were in New York.
It had been almost a year since that lunch with the other Hollander when all of Wyatt’s dreams came true. Multiverses existed and he was living in a multiverse story. There was a sad lack of aliens, robots, and mutants in the other universe…but still. It was pretty fucking awesome. It had turned out that what the multiverse really wanted was for Hollander and Rozanov to find love with each other. He was totally on board with that. He hoped that if there was a universe where he wasn’t with Lisa, the multiverse would sort that out for them. Because not being with the love of his life sounded fucking horrible.
“Hazy!” Rozanov’s voice boomed from across the room.
“Black Widow!” Wyatt called back. Roz had told him a million years ago Black Widow was his favorite superhero. Wyatt didn’t know why he started calling Roz that but it had kind of stuck. He made his way to the table where Roz and Shane were sitting. Shane stood to give Wyatt a hug, Roz just kind of patted him on the back from his chair. Once he settled down a waiter came over.
“Hey, guys, what can I get you?” Wyatt put on his goalie-vision. Attractive, early thirties, hazel eyes, light brown hair.
“Kip, this is our friend Wyatt,” Shane said. Kip turned to Wyatt and smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was just pouring out sad energy behind his customer service demeanor. Wyatt wanted to cuddle him into a hug but he knew that would be weird.
“Nice to meet you Wyatt,” Kip said. Once he took their orders and disappeared back to the bar, Wyatt turned to Shane and Roz.
“That’s the guy?” he asked.
“Yes. I did not think anyone would be a sadder sack than me because this Hunter guy stopped playing hockey but then I come to this bar and have to watch Kipper mope around. He does not even know why he is so sad,” Roz said.
“We fixed it for Eric and Kyle,” Shane said.
“I know. I just had dinner with Benny. He was fucking beaming. Well done you. But this one is trickier,” Wyatt said.
“Yeah, Hunter lives in Rochester which isn’t exactly around the corner. And Eric said he’s married,” Shane said.
“Well. What Bennett said was that he got married. Like 15 years ago. They haven’t been in touch. Maybe he is not married anymore,” Roz pointed out.
“Well did you guys stalk his socials?” Wyatt asked.
“That seemed weird,” Shane said.
“My dude. Multiverse body-swap is weird. You buying a bar just so Benny could meet his AU boyfriend is fucking weird. Looking someone up on Instagram is like low-key normal,” Wyatt pointed out, pulling his phone out.
“Is this him?” he asked Shane when he pulled up the profile.
The three of them hunched over the phone together.
“Here are your drinks, guys.” Wyatt scrambled to hide his phone. Which he realized was unnecessary since Kip didn’t actually know who Scott Hunter was. Kip gave all three of them a funny look.
“Two Gross Smoothies and a lager,” he said, putting the drinks on the table and escaping from the strange hockey players as fast as he could.
“Ok, let me see again, Hazy,” Ilya ordered. Wyatt put his phone back on the table and started scrolling through the feed. There was Hunter. Most of the pictures included another man and two kids.
“Looks like he’s still married,” Wyatt said.
Ilya looked at his husband with betrayal. “Why did you not tell me he was so hot!”
Shane clenched his jaw.
“Rozanov, I was in a fucking alternate universe. I had bigger fucking things on my mind than whether or not the man was hot.”
Roz shot him a disbelieving look. “Did you not have eyes when you were there?”
Shane rolled the eyes in question. “I was focused on getting home.”
“Yes, fine,” Roz looked chastened. It was pretty impressive that Hollander had that power. “So Kip’s type is supermodel-astronaut-fireman? This will not be so easy.”
Rozanov scrolled through more of the pictures, some of which included a big Burmese Mountain dog.
“Can we get a dog?” he asked Hollander.
“Can we focus on one problem at a time?” Shane replied.
***
Kip kept an eye on Shane and Ilya’s table from behind the bar. They had introduced their friend just by his first name but Kip recognized him as Wyatt Hayes, the goalie of the Ottawa Centaurs. Having professional hockey players visit the bar had become old hat since the husbands bought the Kingfisher.
Because now they were husbands. Shane and Ilya had disappeared for a month at the beginning of the summer, leaving Eric Bennett to oversee the bar. Which really meant that Kyle was looking after the bar and Eric was looking after Kyle, because they were also solidly a couple now. Kip kind of expected an engagement announcement coming from that corner any day.
At the end of that month, Shane and Ilya had announced their marriage on Instagram. Kip was a little hurt they hadn’t told him and Kyle privately before they told the world, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about that. He thought they were friends but he guessed he was just an employee to them.
Now Wyatt Hayes was sitting with his bosses and kept shooting Kip looks that Hayes probably thought were subtle. The man was wearing a wedding ring and giving off straight-boy energy so Kip didn’t think it was that Hayes was checking him out. He tried to catch some snippets of their conversation when he took their order and brought them drinks but none of it had made sense. He thought they might be talking about multiverses and going hunting. Neither of those things tracked with what he knew about Shane and Ilya so he figured his over-tired brain had just gotten it wrong. Ilya caught his attention and he made his way back to the table.
“Yeah, boss, what can I get you?” he said. Ilya put his hand to his chest like Kip had wounded him.
“Kipper, we are friends, no? Why do you call me boss?” Kip forced a smile.
“Because you’re my boss?” he reminded Ilya. Ilya waved that away.
“Look at this dog. Can you tell Shane we should get a dog like this?” Ilya said, shoving a phone in his face. It was a picture of two attractive men in their late thirties, two kids, and a dog that wouldn’t fit in any New York City apartment, not even one as big as Shane and Ilya’s probably was.
“I think it would count as animal cruelty to have a dog that big in New York,” Kip said.
“That is all you have to say about this picture?” Ilya asked him, like he was waiting for some other kind of reaction. Kip looked again.
“Yeah? Are these friends of yours or something?” Kip asked.
“One of them is an old friend of Eric’s,” Shane explained. “Ilya is just trying to convince me to get a dog.”
Kip took their orders and went back to the bar. Before he could put the drinks on a tray to bring them to the table, Wyatt was standing in front of him.
“Hey. I can grab them and save you the trip. They’re being lovey dovey and I don’t need to see that,” Wyatt said. Kip looked over Wyatt’s shoulder. It looked to him like Shane and Ilya were fighting but by their standards, sure, that was kind of lovey dovey.
“So how are you guys friends? Were you teammates with one of them?” Kip asked.
“Nah. Bummer though, I’d love that. I met them a few times at some all-star games but you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you the story of how we became friends,” Wyatt said.
“They say that a lot,” Kip said. “The first time I met them, and a million times since. We ask a question about how they got together or whatever and it’s always, ‘You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.’”
“I bet. But I’m glad it all happened that way. They’re the best. Although those dickheads went off and eloped without telling anyone! I found out on Instagram,” Wyatt said. Kip felt a little lighter hearing that. Maybe it hadn’t been personal.
“You did?” he asked.
“Yeah. So rude! Apparently the only people they told before that post were Shane’s parents. All their friends found out at the same time as the rest of the world,” Wyatt said, looking back over his shoulder. “Ok, they’ve had enough time to do whatever that weird fighting/flirting thing they do is. Later, Kip!” Wyatt took the drinks back to the table and Kip gave him a smile and a wave. Maybe the husbands were actually his friends, too.
Crying in the Bathroom
March 2025
Kip polished glasses, mixed drinks, and pulled beers on autopilot. It had been a shitty couple of months.
The guy he started dating in January - the one who he thought had some real potential for something long-term - had broken up with him a week before Kyle’s wedding. So he had to go to the wedding alone and try to be happy for his best friend who was so clearly besotted with an equally besotted Eric Bennett. And he was happy for Kyle. Really. It was possible to be happy for your friend and cry in the bathroom at his wedding at the same time. Kip should know. He had cried in the bathroom of every wedding he’d been to in the last five years and he was always happy for the people getting married.
It wouldn’t have been so bad except that his funding was running out this year and he found out earlier this week that he had been rejected from the big fellowship he applied for. So next year was looking to be more working three jobs without a lot of time left over for writing his dissertation. Which would probably add another year to his PhD timeline. Which would mean yet another year of begging funders for money or working three jobs. All of which just kind of sucked.
Shane walked in the door of the Kingfisher and Kip was relieved that Ilya was on the road tonight. Shane didn’t usually pick up on Kip’s bad moods but Ilya always did and them made Kip talk about it like a fucking therapist. It was annoying. Kip just wanted to wallow.
Shane sat down at the bar and looked at Kip very seriously. It kind of made him nervous.
“Please don’t tell me you’re about to fire me,” he said. Shane looked shocked.
“What? No! Of course not. Why would you say that?” Shane asked.
“You have a very serious face on,” Kip told him. Shane sighed.
“No. I’m just… I’m worried about you, Kip. I wanted to check in with you and see if you’re doing ok,” Shane said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kip deflected. Shane nodded thoughtfully.
“You never ask about my history with Ilya,” Shane said. It seemed like a u-turn in the conversation and Kip didn’t know what to do with that.
“I figured you’d tell me anything you wanted to. I know it couldn’t have been easy - being closeted, being rivals, and whatever else,” Kip said.
“It wasn’t. And the whatever else was… well it was that I fell in love with him and then he stopped talking to me for five years,” Shane said, looking down at a napkin that he was tearing to shreds.
“Fuck, Shane. I’m so sorry,” Kip said. Shane nodded in acknowledgement.
“There was an all-star weekend, about three years after he stopped talking to me when he brought the woman he was dating. I freaked out, panicked, ended up running out of the party we were at,” Shane looked up at Kip then, “and crying in the bathroom.”
Kip’s shoulders slumped.
“You saw me at the wedding?” Shane nodded. “It’s not like that. I’m not in love with Kyle. It’s just like, fuck, all the fucking weddings and when do I get mine?” Kip admitted. Shane blew out a breath. He almost seemed… relieved.
“I get that. It can be hard watching all your friends find the thing you want. I was there for a long time. You’ll get yours, Kip. I know you will.”
Kip didn’t know if he believed that. But Shane seemed to so he tried to believe Shane.
New Kid in Town
April 2025
Jake Baden paused in front of the Kingfisher. He looked at his reflection on the front windows, smoothed down his blond hair and adjusted his t-shirt on his broad shoulders. He felt the butterflies in his stomach. He had never been to a gay bar before and it was equal parts exciting and terrifying.
Jake had signed with the Brooklyn Robins baseball team in the offseason and he would be starting as their new first basemen in two days. It would be the first season where he played as an out gay man.
His decision to come out was in no small part influenced by the owners of the bar he was standing in front of. He thought if Hollander and Rozanov could do it in a sport as notoriously homophobic as hockey, he could do it as a baseball player. It was exciting when he finally met the hockey husbands at a fundraiser last week. They had approached him to welcome him to New York and implied that they were there to support him as he navigated his first season being both out and a New York professional athlete. They’d invited him to stop by the Kingfisher any time.
Jake had purposefully waited until both of their teams were on the road before he decided to come to the bar. He didn’t fully understand why, but he wanted to see if he could do this, handle it, without the training wheels. He took a deep breath and opened the door. The space was inviting in a subtle way. There were some pride flags hanging on the walls but it mostly looked like every other sports bar Jake had ever been to. Maybe just a little bit nicer.
He approached the bar and tried to convince himself that this was normal. Ordering a drink at a gay bar wasn’t any different than at any other bar.
Deep breath, Jake. You got this.
He glanced at the menu, raising his eyebrows at something called a “Gross Smoothie,” before he found a beer on the list that sounded good. He looked up to try and get the bartender’s attention. The man pulling beers glanced up, caught his eye and gave Jake a 1000-watt smile.
Holy fucking shit. He might have been the hottest man Jake had ever seen in his life. No. It was more that that. He was…beautiful. Jake lost all coherent thought as the man approached him. He simultaneously wanted to bend the guy over the bar and hear his entire life story. He’d never felt a pull to another man like this.
He felt like he was standing on a precipice… like his whole life was about to change.
“Hi. I’m Kip. What can I get you?”