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 Posted: Wed Nov 22, 2023 1:07 pm
Thanksgiving was coming up and, with it, came the usual horde of questions about what anybody planned to do for the holiday. Frankly, Preston had become exhausted with such topics coming up around the university campus toward the start of last week—when there had still been more than ten days between him and a holiday that he would have preferred to avoid entirely—and his mood toward the entire concept of the American Thanksgiving nonsense had not improved a lick since. If anything, he’d only gotten touchier and easier to upset.
During the two days of actual classes at DCU—the academic long weekend had mercifully started after everyone’s last classes or appointments on Tuesday, leaving Wednesday free—he’d met any questions about his own plans with stony silence because every time someone asked, Preston’s nerves itched and he wanted to scream in a way that he realized—not least due to some input from certain faculty he respected (Dr. Rokugin chief among them)—was both unfair and honestly uncalled for. People wanted to ask after his holiday plans because they were trying to include him as a colleague (fair enough). They assumed that he had any because this was true of most people, so why wouldn’t they think so when they had no way of knowing how Preston had grown up.
Once upon a time, Preston had allowed himself to think that studying history and religion would have put him among colleagues who would probably, on the whole, disavow or at the very least strongly criticize American Thanksgiving. For as much as certain members of the American right wing loved to drone on and on about the “War on Thanksgiving” that was allegedly based on “attacking” how the predominant myths about it regularly dehumanized American Indians and distorted the actual history surrounding the event, Preston himself hadn’t seen much of that criticism happening in real-time.
The worst thing about the holiday, though, was the fact that enough of the Kaynes’ employees had asked for time off that Preston was slated to work both Wednesday and Friday. He didn’t mind the extra hours by a long-shot, but the lack of hands on deck meant that Preston needed to work……eugh……out in the front. Between how infrequently this happened and how poor Preston’s mood had been in general, this seemed to him like an exceptionally intense form of torture, designed to hurt him personally. (Naturally, he realized that it wasn’t, but truly, Jean-Paul Sartre hadn’t gotten specific enough in No Exit: Hell was not other people; Hell was obnoxious, entitled customers. Preston knew this in his heart.)
Unfortunately, he also knew that the torture did not only affect himself. That would’ve been bad enough on its own, but felt even worse when he actually liked Jupiter and usually didn’t mind working up front so much, as long as it was with her. Perhaps Preston could have given her a better apology for today than the one he did: a sizable brownie from the little locally based, family-owned bakery across the street, left by her register when he’d gotten back from lunch, with a little Post-It Note on which he’d drawn a messy doodle of the planet Jupiter and an equally messy doodle of a butterfly, ideally marking it as For Jupiter And No One Else.
But whether his apology brownie was sufficient or not didn’t matter quite as much as whether or not Jupiter liked said brownie. As he brought a box of new crystals out from the back to get them properly shelved, Preston tried not to be too obvious about sneaking glances her way, hoping to take mental notes on her reaction.
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Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2024 12:14 am
Poor Preston, honestly. Jupiter had the impression that this time of year was uncomfortable for him, and while he was absolutely perfect at work behind the scenes, he was also...well, not very good with people, and it was a rough thing, making him work up front. Given her druthers, she preferred to divide labor such that he didn't have to, but there were no druthers today, only lots of customers and lots of people taking days off for family time.
Which, Jupiter had gathered, was a very sensitive subject for poor Preston, given the little pieces of backstory she'd managed to pry out. Anything that ended with a restraining order against a family member was, by Jupiter's judgement, a Bad Time, which meant this time of year probably had to feel extra raw since no one could shut up about how great Family was.
So, she took a lot of deep breaths and told herself to just let it go when he got a little bitey--which wasn't too hard, really. Preston was normally so sweet that it was easy to forgive a difficult day, especially when she got to her register and found a little something waiting for her.
There was no disguising that her face lit up when she saw that lovely, giant brownie, clearly marked for her. A perfect little snack to help get her through, and there was no doubt as to the source.
Her eyes scanned over the store as she unwrapped it, looking for the likely bearer of her little gift, and when she found him shelving crystals, she held up the brownie and mouthed "thank you!!" in the most enthusiastic way she could manage, then took a big bite and beamed.
Delicious.
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Posted: Tue Jan 09, 2024 2:45 am
Preston hadn’t been watching Jupiter’s reaction for the gratitude. He wouldn’t argue with it, either—seeing her mouth “thank you!” at him did get him to smile, however small and restrained the expression was—but above all else, he’d been watching to make sure that the brownie went over well. If he’d gotten a flavor that she didn’t like as much as another, or if the would-be apology hadn’t landed, then he would have needed to regroup, find something else to do for her, consider taking a moment when things were less busy to use his words for an apology.
He still might do that, later. Given how many customers they could expect to see today, he didn’t think there’d be enough spare moments for quite some time, but, well……it was an idea to keep in mind, certainly.
In the here and now, however, there were other gestures that could be made to help emphasize his contrition. For example, customers were starting to line up by Jupiter’s register and yet, one in particular seemed to be making attempts at cutting to the front, ahead of everyone else. She didn’t have any bags or items to purchase, only a cane in one hand and an approximately credit card-sized object in the other that, even from over here, Preston recognized as a medical marijuana license.…… Ah, this he could handle much more easily than the vast majority of things with which a customer could require assistance.
Putting on the most pleasant-adjacent neutral expression that he could, Preston came up to the woman’s side. Intercepted her next attempt at jumping the line with an offer to assist her. Maybe he wasn’t the best at most aspects of customer service, but no one else on staff could rival his knowledge of the different strains that they grew and dispensed here.
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Posted: Tue Jan 09, 2024 8:52 am
Honestly, Jupiter was pretty content with their silent exchange. Preston wasn't exactly the talkative sort--it meant she was sort of always filling the air for both of them on slow days--but his apologies were no less sincere for being conveyed with food instead of with words. Some people might have gotten tetchy, but honestly, when Jupiter didn't even really feel all that offended in the first place, it seemed silly to turn down Free Brownie.
Besides, he was working so hard, and in a way that stressed him out. There were so many reasons he was usually in the back, and none of them had anything to do with not wanting him around; he just wasn't a people person, and that was fine, other people were better at that.
Jupiter herself, for instance, who perked up as soon as a customer approached and started her usual sunshiney sales routine. How are you, got any plans, did you find everything alright, the whole shebang. Her eyes flicked to the woman who was clearly trying to cut ahead, and the corners of her mouth turned down briefly, and she got ready to give a polite "ma'am, I'll be with you as soon as I can"--but she didn't need to worry, apparently, because Preston was right there, moving to help her out.
She was so lucky. Best coworker.
She waited to catch his eye and flashed him a double thumbs up, and then ducked back to her job. Customers certainly weren't going to ring up themselves, after all.
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