Damien was fortunate enough to have a basement attached to the apartment he rented. Judas Priest played from an old stereo set on the floor next to an old weights machine with a bench and a pullup bar. Damien was working out. Wrist wraps really helped him push numbers when his grip otherwise would have failed. He pulled up over and again, a good burn forming in his arms. He'd feel the workout in his lats later. Good exercise always left him with a satisfied, warm, bulky feeling the next day. Even breathing felt great as the gentle rise and fall of his chest expanded and moved the worked muscle. Damien was thoroughly enjoying his youth and the strength it gave him. 

He finished up and checked his phone on the shelf. A notification told him he had an email, it was a meeting invitation from his new boss. He furrowed his brow with concern as he realized what short notice he had. "Oh no... You can't mean today!" It was today, Friday, the same day Damien had a hot Match-up date later which would be jeopardized if this spur-of-the-moment meeting were to run too long. He sighed heavily, considering his chances of making both appointments. He could still take a girl out later... if he ever got a paycheck. 

Phone away, showered, Damien never blow-dried his hair. He thought he'd better show up looking sharp. Shirt and tie, nice slacks, and he brought the suit jacket just incase the boss would be wearing one. Being the novice sleuth that he was, Damien looked up the details. So they would be meeting a Father Wellner. The name triggered the memory of that digest article he had just read. He rushed to grab it at the last minute, rolling it into his pocket to review on the metro rail. Not having a car wasn't such a big deal in a city like this, and it certainly saved on expenses. Still, if this job effort ever panned out, he'd get one eventually. 

Damien showed up to the diner with his jacket over one arm, just realizing the magazine was still on him. Hopefully [i]Occult Digest[/i] wasn't recognizable while rolled up like a burrito. A quick glance showed him to be unarmed. He came in quietly, nodding a greeting to David while finding his pockets with his hands. Trying to appear casual, he scanned the diner patrons briefly in search of anyone that resembled a priest, not wholly expecting to find one. Damien wasn't much of a church goer. A lot of Hispanics were devout catholic, but his mother hadn't the luxury to show up every Sunday, and thus he had never formed the habit and always felt like an outsider. He probably would have met a nice young lady by now if he had stuck to any of his proper Christian duties, but religion was a part of Damien's life where he had allowed himself to fail. An irrational guilt haunted him for it, seeming to surge in strength every time he entered the presence of a clergyman. They made him uncomfortable.