department store woes [OPEN]

[MICAH LANDON]

Working at Dillard’s was a step above working at a fast food restaurant, but at least working at Burger King meant you didn’t have to make pointless conversation with old ladies who wanted opinions on absolutely everything. Forcing a smile onto his attractive face, Micah held up to two dress choices for the ladies again. “I’m sure either of these would please your husbands.” He had carefully refused to say which color would compliment which of the lady’s skin tone the best earlier in the shopping outing. He was not about to sink that far. But, instead of being rude, he had replied, “I’m sorry, ladies, but as a guy, I would be unable to help you with such issues. Perhaps I could get Michelle to help you instead?” His pathetic attempt to get them to leave him alone had failed horribly. He was going to have to perfect the art of disappearing into the back room as most of his co-workers somehow managed to do.

Micah barely resisted the urge to check his watch, desperately wanting to escape the clutches of the older women before him. He was about to get off – if he could just make it a few more minutes. He had to get another job. Perhaps he would try to be some professor’s teaching assistant. Grading papers now would be good practice for when he got a job as an English professor. If he could survive this particular meeting, that is…

“That’s a wonderful choice!” the fallen angel expelled, truly happy that the two women had finally chosen what to buy. He could feel a head ache coming on, but maybe if he got out of this hellhole fast enough, he would save himself a headache. That was what he hoped anyway. Waving a quick good-bye to the ladies as the left, Micah practically fell back into the chair behind one of the many check-out counters in the department store. If only he could hold out for another – he allowed himself to check his watch this time – another nineteen minutes, he would be home free. He could go do whatever he wanted, instead of deal with this. Why did he have this job again? Oh, right. They took him despite his pathetic resume and scheduling conflicts. Oh, but how he wished they hadn’t.

With a sigh, he dropped his head into his hands and began to rub his now pounding temples. He contemplated trying to make himself as small as possible, but then he thought about it – would anyone really bother a guy sitting behind a counter, partially hidden, looking like he was in pain? Well, he certainly hoped no one would.

word count: 446
tag: open! anyone, please
status: complete
ooc: sorry it kind of sucks; i'm still getting used to him. and btw, while this emo kid doesn't want anyone to bother him, i really want someone to. -pokes-

[AMELIE DANIELS]

IT’S JUST A LITTLE LIFETIME AWAY

Shopping had never been an area of increasing interest, not even in the early years of adolescence. Something about wandering amidst hundreds of other eager and usually sweaty people in a building full of clothing priced far too high to be reasonable never caught on. Maybe Amelie was just insane…perhaps it wasn’t that bad. Well, for whatever reason, she found herself in dire need of some new clothes. The jeans, shirts, and dresses from years before refused to stay together, and some even began to unwind at the seams. No, she was not a slob—certain items held memories dear to her, and it would be nonsensical to consider throwing them out. After all, children in countries with obscure names would literally die for such amenities. Of course vintage and thrift shops were high on her list, but this happened to be the closest to her condominium.

Grabbing the keys from the bowl by the door, she headed outside, only to be greeted in some foreign language the barmy old woman next door had probably learned in her younger, less senile years. With a nod, she darted towards the bike rack, well aware that she would not be able to buy as much as she probably needed. After fiddling with the lock a bit longer than she had intended Amelie set off for the first store that came to mind: Dillard’s. It was not, in any way, her favorite of the many stores the city offered, but it was easiest to get to, involved the least amount of harrying traffic, and provided her with easy access to the surrounding shops and boutiques. Besides, the only people who would bother talking to her were probably seniors, and conversing with them did not require much conscious effort.

Amelie sighed audibly, parking her bicycle in front of the first entrance she came across. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long. Her eyes glazed over, looking only for the blazer she had been trying to buy for the past few months. Apparently the folks at Dillard’s did not want to carry navy blazers in her size, although hundreds of other shoppers happened to be built in a remotely similar fashion.

A little ways down from where she had planted her feet, a melodic voice caught her attention. “That’s a wonderful choice!” Amelie felt a small grin break out across her face; the owner of the voice sounded as if he wished he could be a tad more honest with whomever he was addressing. The poor employee, sentenced to mindlessly complimenting frequent customers and answering questions he probably would rather not ever hear again. That would be why she never bothered to apply for a job here; they took anyone who was capable of coherent speech and compulsive lying. She would have fit the profile quite nicely, but refused. Why would she spend time lying to people, only to remember later that they would be wearing whatever atrocious bit of fabric they had purchased and subsequently face mocking glances and cruel snickers. No, that would not do. Besides, it did not seem fun in the least bit.
Amelie decided it was now or never; she may as well start walking and browsing. The faster she looked, the sooner she could be out of here. But as she continued down the rows of clothing, she glimpsed a head of dark hair just behind one of the check-out counters. With a shrug, she flounced quietly around the counter and plopped down in the seat beside the boy.

“So, does everything look better from back here, or are you trying to hide from those,” Amelie dropped her voice to a stage-whisper, “old women?” The poor kid looked exhausted, rubbing his temples as if he were trying to set his head on fire with friction. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you.” She turned her head slightly to face him, smiling beatifically, silently hoping he wasn't going to be sick.

Status:Complete
Word Count: Six hundred sixty-three.
OOC Drone: There you go, dear.
I'm seriously hoping this site gets back up and running.

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