Jul 24, 2020 20:06:30 GMT -6
In a little corner building, three doors down on a road not far from the center of downtown Lorsette, I find myself polishing up the shop a little more than usual. I've got a business to run here, sure, but there's so much more to it than that. I've got visitors of a different sort coming tonight, so I've been readying the other half of the store for the event. Not that it's going to be anything big, really; it never is. Rather, instead of expecting anything, I've left it an open invitation in the circular of the local papers and in-the-know groups online. Rather than making it a big thing, I'd rather just let it end up however it will. Still, I've got the mats out in preparation, and even a small set of two tatami that I brought with me from Japan for the sheer ambience of them under my knees as I start to work and show just what you can do with a little bit of inspiration and a lot of love.
Turning from the counter to the window, it will be a little bit longer before anybody comes for the small community class. That said, I'm not sure who to expect. All I know is that I've put it out there, and the signs on the doors should be enough to make it clear what's going on and when. For now, at least, it's about 1:45, and mind drifts gently to that line of texts from this morning. Miss Averie Jones, huh? Should be that blonde lady, yes? Come to think of it, she did look more than a little inebriated at the time, didn't she? I suppose, since she said she'd be by today, I should make sure to not be in these jeans and tee shirt when she gets here, should I? Rather, I'd prefer to just change into the kimono that I'll be wearing tonight at the event. That way, if she does intend to stay for any length of time or conversation, there will be no awkward excusing myself to the bathroom to change clothes. No, I'll do that now. Best to leave a small note on the door that I'll be out for five minutes, since the part timer shouldn't be back until later anyhow. Clicking the lock and moving swiftly into the back and bringing forward my more formal clothing to cross to the bathroom at the other side of the store (bad design, I know), a slight grin crosses my face. How, I wonder, does someone who has no interest in flowers end up drunk in a flower shop? I do intend to ask her how that happened, if I get the chance.
Use the facilities, wash my hands, strip and put on the three layers of this particular classic kimono set with accessories tucked tastefully into the obi, drape the apron with green flower juices still stuck to it from earlier cuttings from a bouquet for a particularly picky customer back over the contrasting deep, purple kimono. Fix my hair and pluck out those leaves that stuck themselves behind my ears. I'm not ready for anything, but I'll have to pretend to be, at least. A little slap to my cheeks to remind me not to be so nervous and live in the moment never hurts, but that doesn't mean it's going to help, either. Touching the mirror once more (and cleaning the bathroom quickly whilst I'm in here, just for good measure), my hand goes back on the lock as I pick up the small pile of discarded casual clothing. Whoops. Can't leave that where customers can see it, can I?
Walking back, it's about this time that I see somebody knocking at my door and trying to see in through the glare. Oops! That must've taken about 15 minutes instead of 5, huh? I'll see when I get back to a clock. Meanwhile, all I can do is drop the discarded clothes into the employees only area and unlock the door with a slight apology. "Sorry about that, I was in the restroom. Please, please, come in!"
Turning to the sign on the door, it gets quickly ripped off with the slick and sticky sound of tape peeling. Just another thing to deal with later, since I'm not exactly alone in the shop right now. For now, at least, it's back behind the register with me, where that black bag is waiting and I have a raised seat to sit on and catch my breath for a moment. Not that that'll do anything for my scrambled mind, at the very least I'll be able to sit a moment, though.
[averie jones ]
Turning from the counter to the window, it will be a little bit longer before anybody comes for the small community class. That said, I'm not sure who to expect. All I know is that I've put it out there, and the signs on the doors should be enough to make it clear what's going on and when. For now, at least, it's about 1:45, and mind drifts gently to that line of texts from this morning. Miss Averie Jones, huh? Should be that blonde lady, yes? Come to think of it, she did look more than a little inebriated at the time, didn't she? I suppose, since she said she'd be by today, I should make sure to not be in these jeans and tee shirt when she gets here, should I? Rather, I'd prefer to just change into the kimono that I'll be wearing tonight at the event. That way, if she does intend to stay for any length of time or conversation, there will be no awkward excusing myself to the bathroom to change clothes. No, I'll do that now. Best to leave a small note on the door that I'll be out for five minutes, since the part timer shouldn't be back until later anyhow. Clicking the lock and moving swiftly into the back and bringing forward my more formal clothing to cross to the bathroom at the other side of the store (bad design, I know), a slight grin crosses my face. How, I wonder, does someone who has no interest in flowers end up drunk in a flower shop? I do intend to ask her how that happened, if I get the chance.
Use the facilities, wash my hands, strip and put on the three layers of this particular classic kimono set with accessories tucked tastefully into the obi, drape the apron with green flower juices still stuck to it from earlier cuttings from a bouquet for a particularly picky customer back over the contrasting deep, purple kimono. Fix my hair and pluck out those leaves that stuck themselves behind my ears. I'm not ready for anything, but I'll have to pretend to be, at least. A little slap to my cheeks to remind me not to be so nervous and live in the moment never hurts, but that doesn't mean it's going to help, either. Touching the mirror once more (and cleaning the bathroom quickly whilst I'm in here, just for good measure), my hand goes back on the lock as I pick up the small pile of discarded casual clothing. Whoops. Can't leave that where customers can see it, can I?
Walking back, it's about this time that I see somebody knocking at my door and trying to see in through the glare. Oops! That must've taken about 15 minutes instead of 5, huh? I'll see when I get back to a clock. Meanwhile, all I can do is drop the discarded clothes into the employees only area and unlock the door with a slight apology. "Sorry about that, I was in the restroom. Please, please, come in!"
Turning to the sign on the door, it gets quickly ripped off with the slick and sticky sound of tape peeling. Just another thing to deal with later, since I'm not exactly alone in the shop right now. For now, at least, it's back behind the register with me, where that black bag is waiting and I have a raised seat to sit on and catch my breath for a moment. Not that that'll do anything for my scrambled mind, at the very least I'll be able to sit a moment, though.
[averie jones ]
