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 Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 12:13 am
After a rather trying debacle with a saleslady who insisted that she didn't have shoes in Amaravati's size (ha! Not have shoes in 'Mara's size? Her feet were as delicate and dainty as... well, okay, maybe they weren't so dainty after all), shoes that fit her particular needs, a certain young Indo-Brit diva was about ready to $*@#ing bloody tear holes in walls. ... Possibly literally. First the shoes, then the %#@*ing prom dresses. As though women didn't come in her size. Pshaw!
Needless to say, big mama 'Mara was Not. $*@#ing. Impressed.
And then she'd thrown daddy's money around, and suddenly the %$#@ sales lady had been all over herself to find some-$*#@ing-thing that suited her. @*#$ that. Amara was more than capable of doing her own #@$% shopping, thank you very much.
She didn't need any snobby, self important women looking down their noses at her because she wasn't a size $#*$ing six. Personally, she was of the opinion that the woman was just jealous. It was obvious that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't acquire a decent set of tits for herself... or so the push up bra had led her to believe.
Whatever. Anyway, she was done with that bull$*@#. There was a perfectly reasonable boutique across the way, and her bags full of delicate, darling shoes told of exactly how successful she had been in her quest for the perfect pump. The next quest revolved around boots; her personal favorite form of footwear. Tall boots, short boots... boots with heels, boots with real leather...
Boots. Just boots.
Her Halloween costume had been particularly $*#@&#xin;g this year. There had been boots that went allllll the way up to her thigh, where they just barely showed off stocking covered leg from the %#@$ing slit in her dress. ... Yeah, those had been amazing. Unfortunately, it seemed like no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't find a pair to match them.
Frowning, she tapped her foot, and waited for the area to clear up enough for her to get a good view of the store window. It wouldn't do to waste her time at a store that didn't show its merchandise properly. If they didn't $*@$ing know their own stock, and how best to display it, how was she supposed to bloody trust that they were going to handle the transaction properly?
Some things just weren't done.
In the middle of her tapping, a man brushed by her in a hurry, and she lost her balance, windmilling and swearing like a sailor as she went down, bags and all. "$@%#!" Oh god $%#@ing %#*$ it! That tore it, the heel of her boot was broken. This was not her day. This was not $*@$ing her day. "$*#@hole," she growled, gathering herself up and limping a little as she attempted to retrieve her newly purchased treasures from the crowd.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 12:41 am
Sue'd always thought that shopping centers were new-age circuses, and goddamn if he wasn't sitting ringside for the sideshow right now. Some chick flopping gracelessly around on the ground with her shopping bags scattered around her. What would they call that act, he wondered? "Mall Whale Out of Water?" He didn't notice, and didn't care, about the heel that had broken - hell, if he had, he'd probably just have laughed harder! The other titters among the crowd had already moved on from the scene, though, so he wiped away a mirthful tear and prepared to move on as well.
Sue had a busy day ahead of him, after all, and mocking clumsy girls wasn't on his itinerary. The summer was over, and his workplace had fired off all the young kids they didn't think they had any use for anymore. His mother sent him a weekly allowance, but it wasn't enough - not for all the mouths he had to feed! And when all the places offering good, honest work that he could find told him they weren't hiring, well... he had to come to less seemly places with his resume.
Most of the places here, though, were predictably... unwelcoming. The girl behind the counter at the first place he'd gone to had just given him a horrified look, and took his resume with a dainty that told him she was only waiting until she could trash it. The third one had glanced at his piercings and informed him, snidely, that he might want to try apply somewhere that catered to people "like him." And the sixth, well... she'd just smiled glassily and tried to convince him to buy some perfume for his mother.
He was down to two resumes left in his hand, and wasn't sure where he should go to put them. It occurred to him, briefly, that he might not be cut out for the kind of work that mall-folk needed to do - all that smiling, that a**-kissing, that making people believe they deserved whatever their money could buy. But what was he supposed to do? He needed to find a job, damn it, and he'd take damn near anything!
As he was moving on, though, his foot tapped something. Sue hesitated mid-step, examining the hunk of something-or-another that was next to his toe. It wasn't something familiar, and it took him several seconds to identify it as the culprit of Amara's discomfort, the broken heel. Without thinking, he stooped down, scooped it up, and tossed it to the unfortunate girl. "Superglue," he suggested brusquely.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 12:57 am
Had she been in any other mood than she was right now, Amara would have noticed that the young man who had tossed her heel at her was kind of eye catching. However, she was not #*@#ing in any other mood, and she was not $#*@ing feeling like dealing with that crap. "Super go #%@$ yourself," Amaravati snapped back, feeling somewhat sore for the way those jack$@*es had carried on with their laughter. She did not tolerate that kind of patronizing on a good day, and this was not a bloody good day. No. No, it was the god$*#$ opposite of a good $*#@ day.
"Do you have any idea how costly this is going to be to replace? These are $*@$ing designer boots!" Why she had rounded on the unsuspecting boy... well, he had it coming. Cursing furiously, she gathered up her shoes, yanked the boot off, and swore again. $*@&#xit;. She would have to take them to a cobbler, and it was not going to be cheap. ... Not that she cared overly much about price, but... but they had been one of a %#*@ing kind. Designer. $@$*ing. Boots. Auuuuughhhh!
Yanking the other boot off with little ceremony, Amara gathered her shopping bags up, and took out a dainty pair of pumps, slipping into them and replacing the boots in the box. That would do for now, and at least she wouldn't look like a two dollar trollop. $@%*! $%@#! What a mess. What a waste of a perfectly good boot, and what a mess. Gathering her ruffled temper, she reeled it in a little, and eyed the boy again. "Sorry. But they really are designers." She was going to have a $#*@ of a time replacing them, or repairing them so that the break didn't show.
Superglue? Seriously? Superglue on a pair of boots that nice? Obviously, this kid had no $*@$ing clue what he was talking about. With one last glare toward the gaggle of girls who had laughed when she'd fallen, she brushed herself off, and sorted out her hair. It didn't like it when she did stupid things like dive into crowds. Not that that was her fault, but hair wasn't... sentient like that. That was a $*@# shame, sometimes. If she had had sentient hair, maybe she could've strangled someone with it by now.
Deep breaths, Amara. It was clear enough that the young man who had so clumsily bestowed her boot heel upon her was out of place here. What exactly did he need that she could provide? ... Did she even $*#@ing want to provide it? He seemed suspiciously like the sort of guy who would go home and laugh about the sight of her careening into the crowd like that. God$*#@ stranger, wherever he was. It wasn't polite to bloody knock into people like that. Come to think of it, why had she even bothered to apologize to this twerp here? He didn't seem any better.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:16 am
Well shoot, wasn't this girl just a picture of roses and sunshine? Whatever he'd been expecting from his advice (which he stood by as being perfectly practical and useful), getting his head ripped off of his shoulders was not it. Sue rocked back and stared at her, contempt curling onto his face.
He jabbed a finger down at her feet. "And those. Designers too, 'bout right?" His words seemed less like a question than an accusation. "Then shut your yap. You spend that much money on things you stick around your feet when you go walkin' around, you better know they're gonna get busted." Sue's own shoes were much more practical, of course - sturdy hiking shoes, all leather, with dirt crusted on the sides. Those things weren't going to break unless someone took a blade to them, and even then, the ribbons would hold together until the bitter end.
Of course, he grudgingly considered, that might be part of the reason why nobody was leaping to take one of his resumes. Sue didn't fit the "part." He was a suburban boy that regarded his fellow man as a nuisance - what the hell retail store would want him on the front lines of their sales department? Heck, if it weren't for Bartholomew and the rest, he wouldn't even want to! It was all so damned... social....
Which gave him an idea. Or at least an inkling of one, not quite formed, that he thought might become one if he pursued it. He looked to Amara again with a more calculating eye. But it would take something different than he was used to - a certain charm. Some social grace. A bit more delicacy than his usual 'car ramming through a wall' conversational routine.
Or he could just wing it.
"Hey. I gotta get me a job somewhere, and soon. You know anybody who's hiring?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:30 am
"It's not the same! Those were one of a kind %*#$ing boots, and--!" And Amara had been about to read him the riot act, except... except he kind of looked pathetic, didn't he? $*#@! His next words confirmed that, and she rolled her eyes. "What, do I look like I know $*#$ing people who work in retail stores? Do I? ... Don't answer that. Don't @$%*ing answer that." Pursing her lips, she tried to remember where the most likely place was, and after a moment, she recalled it.
"That place over there is hiring," she said, pointing toward a nice, classy boutique. "They'll hire guys, but... uhh, no offense? Not like looking like that." She wrinkled her nose delicately, thinking things over. "If you go in looking like that, they won't $@*$ing consider you... but maybe..." The glint in her eye was a truly dangerous one. Poor Sue wouldn't know what had hit him by the time she was through.
Slipping her arm through the boy's, she steered him in the direction of a nice gentleman's clothing store. "Right. We're going to have to gear you up so that they'll take you seriously. Do you have any idea of what sizes you wear?" %*#&#xit;, she had not wanted to get involved. She had not wanted to take the boy in hand-- and $%#$, there he went, under her wing. She sighed.
"If you comb your hair out and wear it in a tail at the back of your neck... maybe with some kind of respectable clip, or some %$*#..." Amaravati was musing now. She'd planned on buying a lot more shoes, but daddy's money could cover men's wear. It could definitely cover it. "Or maybe a leather thong. I think that's probably more your style." Something. She'd find something.
Alas that her mothering instincts had homed in on him as a target. Ah well, at least he was mildly attractive, for a lout. If she dressed him up properly, he might even do her credit. Who $*#@ing knew. "This store for the clothing, that one for the shoes... you probably wear a large size, huh?" The sales staff had better bloody well do a $*#@ sight better than the lady at the previous store. If not, well... there were other stores who would take her money.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:41 am
Wait. What just happened?
No, really. He'd just finished telling her, essentially, to pull her head out of her a**. Then he'd tried a bit of charm, figuring she'd snap something at him that may or may not be useful and stomp off. Prissy brats that whined over designer shoes they could afford ten pairs of out of their allowance acted in very specific ways, and this... this was not one of those ways.
Of all the things he could have said, "Is this some sorta trap?" probably wasn't the most gracious. Still, it was the only thing that could sum up his incredulity properly, so he went ahead with it just the same.
The store clerk gave them a wary eye as Sue allowed himself to be led through the gold-wrought door of the ever-fancy "Samuel's Menswear". Sue had already been in here once to drop off a resume, and the impression he'd left behind hadn't vanished yet. Clearly, not a place that he'd be getting a call from in the next week.
"Hold on, hold on," Sue protested and attempted to pull away, his panic alarm finally setting off. "I don't got the money for this kind of stuff! I'm looking for a job, not cashing in on one!"
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:53 am
"Don't be silly. I'm buying." Turning on her particular brand of charm, she gave a suitably cultured smile to the store clerk. Letting the salesperson who lingered nearby get a good, long look at her rather formidable set of bags, and her ... well, other assets (monetary, you perv!), she gestured toward Sue. "My friend here--" and she used the word loosely; he was anything but a friend, really. "-- is in dire need of some fine ware. I presume that you have something suitable in his size?"
Sometimes waving around fingers that glittered with precious gems did the job. Sometimes, credit cards and cash were required. $*#&#xit;, she %$#$ing hated minding her tongue, even for a good cause. Bah! "Put whatever it is that he picks out on the Priti account." Mentioning her surname might do the trick. Her father did shop here, from time to time.
He wouldn't mind a little charity work, would he? "I want him nicely dressed within the hour. That won't be too much trouble, will it?" She gave her sweetest, most fluttery rich girl look, smiling as if it were going out of style. Auugh. Ugh, ugh she hated $%$*ing doing that. Hated it. It made her skin crawl, even. But $*@# did he ever need her help.
With that, she unlinked her arm from Sue's, and gave him a long look. "Hmmnn... we should look into cologne too, I think." A nice, clean scented one, maybe. Something that wouldn't made him too noticeable, but would also cover up a little of the teenaged boy... scent. Yes, that would be absolutely essential. She fiddled with her purse, seemingly deciding on something or another, her attention momentarily caught by a nice display of ties.
"Oh and... come back out and show me when you're finished?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 2:18 am
There should be a protest made at this point. But it was choked off by the sheer horror of the situation. Unable to process what was happening, let alone how and why, Sue had reverted to a spineless, gaping state. There were ties here, was the malicious, haunting whisper in his ear. The only tie he ever wore was the one for his school uniform - and that was a clip-on. These were the real deal, and he wasn't even sure how the heck to tie them....
He wasn't saying yes, but he wasn't saying no, either. And since Sue wasn't the one with money, it wasn't so important that he was the one to approve, anyway. The saleslady whipped him away with the delighted exuberance of one about to earn a hefty commission for a minimal amount of work. After all, damn near anything she stuck him in would be a world of improvement over his sloppy outfit!
So began a series of unspeakable tortures, the like of which only small children before family weddings were typically subjected. Sue was stuck up on a pedestal and forced to stand like on a crucifix, while the lady went zipping around with a tape measure like he was a plank of wood waiting to get cut on. Then came the whirlwind - jackets upon jackets, stuffy and stiff and scratchy and tight. There was just a thin curtain separating him from the world, mirrors to show him all the uncomfortable angles as he jumped from one set of pants into another as fast as his hairy legs would go. By the time the hangman's noose of a tie came into play, Sue felt plenty dead inside already.
All of that, just to formulate the first measly outfit for presentation. Some men, wearing fine clothes like these, would step out fearless into the world. With Sue, though, it was more of a helpless trudge, the captive walking out onto the plank in his light-grey duds and sharp blue necktie.
"I think," he told his audience hoarsely, "that the tie is tryin' to kill me."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 2:32 am
"Awww, but you look adorable!" Reaching over, Amaravati delicately pinched Sue's cheek, absolutely delighted by the sight of that ruffian in more suitable clothing. "That will do. Thank you very much." She had already selected suitable hair accessories for him, and had a selection of shoes in the sizes that she imagined he might wear brought over from next door. "Now, try these shoes on, will you? There's a love." Her manner might be absolutely irritating to Sue, but it was doing a number to the sales staff.
With the way that Amara's eyes glittered, it was obvious that she was taking some small revenge for the way he had treated her earlier. "Right. Down to business... when you're all dressed, we'll head over to the store, and I'll make an introduction for you. I assume that you can handle things from there?" Was he capable of getting himself a job? She wasn't sure of it. ... Hmmn. She'd nipped out for a moment to acquire cologne and was now debating the best way to get it on him. Maybe if she sprayed the shirt when he wasn't paying attention...
Under her breath, she said,"You might find this irritating, but it's nothing compared to the rigors of actually finding yourself a job. And besides, you'll be prepared next time." He would have something nice to wear, which was just as well. Everybody could $*@$ing use something nice to wear. "I like the tie, but for the store you'll be applying at, it isn't necessary... we'll keep it anyway. You never know when you'll need a tie."
Turning to the saleslady, she gestured to the assorted goods that she had acquired for Sue. "I'd like all of this on my father's tab. As I understand it, you have an agreement with the shoe store? Yes?" If they did, they could avoid going back over to pay for the shoes... whichever he picked out. Picking up her parcels, she raised an eyebrow at her new duckling. Hmmn, well, he wasn't quite a swan yet, was he? But there was progress. Definite progress.
"Just let me know which shoes fit... and which you like best." Not that she anticipated that he would have the good taste to like any of them, but she could $*#@ing hope he'd have some god$#@$ sense.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 2:44 am
Oh ******** it. There was a time to pull the brakes, and when cheeks were getting pinched, that milepost was in the rear view mirror. "Oh hell naw," Sue complained, retreating quickly. With short, angry movements, he began tugging the jacket off of him. The damn thing was fitted so close, though - he got it down to his elbows, and then the damned thing wouldn't come off...!
And how nice of that sales lady to come over and assist him at just that moment. It was like she just drop-kicked the remained of his masculinity, with a pretty little smile. Sue glared in her direction, and then deflated. The mall-folk... they had him hemmed in on all sides. The fru-fru was unavoidable. The longer he stayed here, the worse it would get. Sue had to wonder: Was the humiliation worth it?
His patron (patron... how'd she get to be his patron again? He still wasn't following this!) was already on the next thing, though, and his outburst might as well have never been. There were shoes in front of him now. Boxes upon boxes of shoes. Probably hundreds, his glum mind calculated, ignoring the nuances of reality in favor of wallowing in his misery.
She probably wasn't even going to buy any of it. She was probably leading him along for a laugh. He'd go through all this torture for clothing he barely understood why he needed, and then she'd change her mind and walk off.
"It's not like I've never had a job before," Sue muttered belligerently. "And that job didn't tell me to wear no goddamn pointed-toe shoes...."
But that job wasn't available anymore, and he had responsibilities he had to follow up on. Swallowing down a lump of disdain, Sue sat and began trying on shoes.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 11:47 am
Oh that was $#@&ing hilarious! Amara was getting a kick out of Sue, even though he seemed inclined not to trust her. Well, give him some time. She wouldn't #*@$ing trust her either after so little time. It was so amusing to watch him fluster and bluster, though. Putting on her most innocent expression, she glanced from the boy to the shoes. "Well? There are only five pairs here... it shouldn't take you too long to find something that works for you, should it?" There were more, if you counted the duplicates in other sizes. 'Mara didn't count them.
What he apparently didn't realize was that she had already bought the clothing he was wearing. "You never tried to get a job with the market so bad then, I guess." It took a little something extra to get a job when the god$*@# shops weren't %*#@ing hiring. That something extra in this case was her, and the clothing that she was providing. Giving the shirt an experimental little spray of cologne, she decided that she liked it. It would be suited to the purpose of giving him a touch of class.
... Assuming that the clothing didn't do that already. "Right, so... comb your hair out, and put this in it," Amaravati said, waving a black leather thong around with her free hand. From the way the saleslady was smiling, they were spending quite a bit of money. She didn't care, though... so she'd go without some new shoes. So what? She had $*@# of a lot already. Mostly, she didn't want to spend so much that her folks took notice of it. Keep it within a certain range and they'd overlook it, and maybe assume that she was outfitting herself a date, or some such.
Not a bad thought, there, but not for her, really. Placing a hand on her hip, she quirked an eyebrow, looking Sue over. "You don't need to wear a jacket to go to an interview, but you might as well keep it." It could come in handy later, say if he wanted to go to a certain dance? But no matter, if he was that uncomfortable, she wasn't going to force the $*#@ thing on him. Not yet, anyway. "I really should take you to a salon, but I think you'd probably hate it." More so than he already hated this, it seemed. She wasn't entirely willing to go to that length for someone she didn't know, anyway.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:05 pm
Sue tried on the first pair of shoes, stared down at the toes, and decided that was good enough. "There. They fit," he declared, abandoning his seat. Which was to say, the shoes were neither falling off his feet nor cutting off the circulation - and that was a proper definition of fitting, wasn't it? It wasn't like he was ever going to wear them again after today, anyway!
He'd barely got standing again, though, and already Amara was giving him new things to try on. The word salon brought an instant sneer on his face - "Cripes, why don't we just toddle on down to the day spa and get us some mani-cures while we're at it!" he exclaimed scornfully, confirming her suspicions. He did, however, grudgingly let his hair loose, picking apart an errant tangle or two before tying it up with the new hairtie. If the way he tied it made it into a lumpy knot that wasn't doing a damned thing to keep his hair in place, well, still, Sue was technically following her guidelines.
"How d'you know so much god-danged much about getting jobs, anyway?" Sue asked shrewdly. He examined the yet-unnamed girl that had adopted his cause, and came to the likely conclusion that she hadn't worked an honest day in her life. Just to be fair, though, he inquired, "Where's your money come from, anyways?" A horrifying thought struck him. "I don't owe a favor to the mob or something after this, do I?"
Sue had to be joking. But he didn't sound like he was joking.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:33 pm
"Oh don't be silly, if I wanted to get you a manicure I wouldn't take you to a spa. I know it's very in fashion to be metrosexual, but I don't... think that would suit you very well. Besides, all of the man spas are rubbish. No, I'd hire a professional." Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she sighed and tackled his hair. He was not using the thong appropriately! Bloody stupid men. They never knew how to look really good. When she was finished with him, she stepped back, and tilted her head to the side. "There we are. You look almost respectable now." Since he didn't seem inclined to do anything with it, she gathered the jacket up and put it with her things.
"I'll have you know that I've gotten plenty of jobs. Daddy doesn't like the idea of me not knowing how to work. You never know when something might happen, after all." Something that involved a $*#@ lot of working. %#@$. "Oh, it's all my father's money now. What I earned is in a savings account somewhere, collecting interest." Or possibly in the stocks. She wasn't sure what Father had done with it... but it didn't matter.
"I worked from Freshman to Junior year, and in the summer, so don't you give me guff about that." Examining one tastefully shaped and colored nail, she huffed a little. God, he was a pain in the $*@. A real pain. "What?! How ridiculous! Do I look Italian to you, dummy?" Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up and met his gaze full on. "I'm not a bloody mafioso's daughter, I'll have you know. Besides, women can't be in the Mob. Didn't you know that?"
Thankfully, the saleslady had wandered off to put everything in the computer, or else they would've gotten some real raised eyebrows. "Right. It's show time. I'll just gather all of this up and we can be on our way." It never hurt to look a bit like you needed a job... but at the nicer boutiques, showing that you tried never hurt. Never. Besides, he did look like he needed a job, even all prettied up like that. "Come along, we've got to $*#@ing book it if you're going to catch the owner before he leaves."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:53 pm
Oh god it was like being at home again with his mother. He thought he'd escaped that when he'd gone off to school, but obviously Sue was wrong - here he was, a grown man (or close enough) in the middle of the mall, getting his hair tugged and yanked and fussed around because he was clearly too incompetent to handle it himself.
Yeah, that bleeding, whining little creature hobbling out the door? Don't pay it any mind. That was just Sue's dignity, fleeing the room altogether at long last.
"You're a senior?" Sue glanced back at the girl, giving her a new appraisal. He'd taken her for his own age, but she had a good two years on him, maybe. At least that made him feel a little less emasculated for getting treated like a child - but not much.
His hair put in order, his shirt straightened and shoes polished, Sue looked significantly different than he had when he'd encountered Amaravati. Nearly respectable, for sure, if he'd just get that damned slouch out of his shoulders and stop darting his eyes around like he was a cat that'd just walked into a dog's poker game.
A bag full of his own clothing was pushed into his hands by one of the sales folk, and then they were hustling out the door. Sue had to fish around through the bag to find his resumes - printed on plain white paper with the bold name "SUE GOTTSCHALK" at its top, with one corner crinkled in the scuffle of getting his things together. He paused to smooth it out against his leg as they walked. "I'm comin, I'm comin'," he muttered, just to keep the girl from getting impatient.
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 8:06 am
Now that was more like it. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all... but then again, he didn't need hope. He had her. Amaravati was significantly better than $%#@ing hope. "Yeah, I'm a senior. Can't you tell? It's not like I look bloody young." Was it? She didn't look like a sophomore, did she? Slipping past the people crowded around the various shops, she led Sue toward the only one that she knew to be hiring.
One glance at Sue's resumes-- "Your name is Sue?" --was enough to assure her that he more than needed her help. What was that? Did he honestly believe that a slightly rumpled piece of plain white paper was going to impress anyone? Scowling, Amara gave him a faintly disapproving look. ... Then again, it was not like any-%*#$ing-one ever even knew what a $^*& resume was anyway, these days.
But ugh, he should've been more *$%#ing prepared for this $%*#! "Oy. I should start up some kind of student assistance program. This is such bull$*#%." He'd better be %$#^ grateful by the time they were through. Weaving their wave through the mill of people, she managed to get her foot in the $*#@ door, and from there it was rather easy to tug Sue along to find the store owner.
"Excuse me, Mr. Daniels, sir? My friend here is looking for a job. You wouldn't be hiring, would you?" Polishing her best manners, she smiled pleasantly at the man, and kept a firm grip on her companion. "I thought I had heard that you were looking for someone to fill an entry level position, and he has my recommendation." She had worked for him before, worked $*#@ hard. It wasn't as though she needed the work, but keeping a hand in couldn't hurt anything.
"I have been looking for someone, Miss Priti. How well does your friend man the cash register?" The subject of how good he was with customers didn't come up. That would've been a sales position, and somehow, Amara thought that sales wouldn't suit her newly acquired duckling. He was almost entering swan territory, here. Almost.
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