Birthday fic for Daegaer
Sep. 11th, 2004 05:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxHappy birthday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
daegaer! *throws confetti*
Birthday fic (cunningly combined with the drabble challenge you asked for many aeons ago) for you:
***
Cultural notes: TopMan is a very trendy shop for young men in the UK. Cheap, cheerful and loud. The UK really does have a crisis in its numbers of welders, and in people going into trades generally.
***
Aziraphale goes shopping
David thought of himself as a perceptive young man. He was sure he was wasting his talents in his new job and he should never have moved from TopMan. The pay was much better here and there was training, but the shop lacked a pounding music system and the clothes were old-fashioned, even if they were pricey. The customers were even worse: some people who came in looked like they might even be nearly fifty.
Stuck behind the counter everyday, it was as if he'd been here for ever, an expert in attaching clothes to hangers or being able to tell a man's inside leg measurement just by looking. Not something he wanted to put on his CV. No, what he wanted was to go into something more him, except he hadn't decided what it was or how to go about it. Modelling would be great - all those fit birds hanging around. Not that he ever needed any help finding girls. He pouted at himself in the small round mirror that stood near the tie rack and discreetly ran a hand over his stiffly gelled hair. He was sure he had the cheekbones for it and it was amazing what they could do with spot concealers these days.
Or, if for some unknown reason the modelling didn't work out, his plan was to go into proper Sales. He was good at selling stuff and his sales bonuses were the highest of any of the staff. He had a knack, his manager had told him, and could go far. The trick was to pretend you liked the customer - give them a bit of flattery, (very slimming, sir), make them feel good, then you'd got the suckers. Twist them round your little finger and then hit them where it hurt - in the wallet. And they could afford it too, the rich bastards who came in this place. He found it thrillingly easy to make them want something they didn't need or even like, sometimes. But in his spare moments, when no one needed their inside leg measuring, he dreamed of selling sports cars or property, not shirts and underpants. He closed his eyes briefly and imagined the smooth, sleek lines of a Porsche, and the smooth sleek lines of his future bank account.
Ye, he was talented. He'd got their current customer pegged from the start. Forty-something, lived alone, almost certainly very boring, good at looking after himself (well-ironed collar, stain-free tie). Well dressed but old fashioned. Looked fairly well-off. Another thing occurred to him, watching the man run his fingers over some ties. Arse bandit. Definitely. He grinned - that always made things a bit easier, as long as they kept their filthy hands to themselves. A few smiles and a touch or two on the arm promised them everything and gave them absolutely nothing.
He gave the man a critical once-over. 32 inch leg, 36-inch waist, but needed to move up to a 38 by the looks of things. This one was going to buy exactly the same clothes as he had on now. He rolled his eyes discreetly at Mike, who was tidying the sock display, making a limp wrist and a discreet thumbs-up sign. Mike looked away quickly, frowning. The customer looked at David with a soft, mild expression and opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind.
Then he smiled.
Later on, David was hot, tired and considering just walking out. This customer was a live one, and no mistake. He'd resisted every single one of David's most tempting offers, even when David had smiled charmingly and stood too close; he refused to move up to a slightly more expensive make of suit, or to invest in a new set of matching luggage that came with a free golfing umbrella. He politely declined to buy it all on the shop's discount card, which Sir could apply for right at this moment.
Before that it had been an hour of shirts, and before that there'd been the forty-five minutes spent trying on trousers. He'd only bought one pair. David counted it a success of the day that he'd managed to get the bloke to move up a waist size. 'Very slimming, sir,' had worked as well as it ever did.
The man had agreed, but only after staring in the mirror for ages, muttering something about too much sitting around reading and not enough flying. David didn't see the difference and quite honestly didn't care- you sat down for both after all, didn't you? God, he was dying for a cup of tea. Wouldn't this bastard ever leave? He sighed loudly, not caring that it was rude. Sir was currently gazing at the revolving tie rack. He'd been doing that for half an hour, swinging it round occasionally with one finger. It squeaked.
'Oh dear, I am taking rather a long time, aren't I,' the customer said, giving him a quick sideways look and then another, broader, smile. 'You know, I actually only came in to look at the ties, but you were so pleasant I thought I'd try a few things on at the same time. You're new here, aren't you? What happened to Derek?'
'He left. He was, you know, getting on a bit,' David said, baring his teeth in a smile. Ties! After spending nearly all afternoon bugging him, he'd only come in for a tie!
He was beginning to feel quite dizzy, standing at the man's elbow. He refused to smile back. This bloke was creepy, he'd decided-- the way he looked speculatively at David made him twitchy and he was seriously worried that his friendly act had been too convincing. What if this bloke was only hanging around because of that? It was just what he didn't want, some pathetic, lonely old queer taking an interest.
The man turned to look at him full on, eyebrows raised. His gaze was shocking, somehow. Just like, David thought afterwards, those dreams where you're inexplicably naked in public.
'Oh, don't worry, I'm not,' the man said, leaning in with another bright smile and a broad wink, before plucking a tie from the rack.
David blinked. 'Huh? But I didn't say anything.'
'Now, I have a very special friend,' the man was saying. 'I want to get him a tie and I'd like your opinion, as a young person. I'm terrible at keeping up with these things. What do you think of this one?'
He held up a silky, gold-coloured scrap of cloth that had a designer label discreetly attached.
Special friend. Right.
'S'nice,' David said, finding that smiling was easier when he thought of a sale. It was a very expensive tie. 'Is it for a special occasion?' he offered.
'Oh no.' The man was still looking at the tie. 'Between you and me, I think it'll go with his eyes.' He moved the bit of fabric around to catch the light. It shimmered and seemed to change colour, from amber to bronze. 'Exquisite.'
Exquisite. You fucking fairy.
'Is it expensive?'
'Yes, erm,' David checked the tag, '£105.'
'He likes expensive things, you see. Priceless things, you could say,' he said, sliding an odd glance David's way.
It did look good, David admitted. Stylish. Despite wanting this bloke to drop dead, he wondered what this 'special friend' was like. If he was anything like this character, he certainly didn't want to meet him.
'I think he'd like to meet you though,' the man said, as if answering David's thought. Which was impossible. 'Something tells me you'd get on very well together.' The man winked again. 'Shall I tell him to come and see you? I'm sure he'd love his inside leg measuring, especially by someone so charming.' He seemed to find this inordinately funny and giggled for far too long.
David bridled, his professional smile dropping of his face like a brick. This was going too far. 'Listen mate, I'm not a fucking qu--' he stopped short, considering the potential sale and his monthly bonus, and took a breath, '-- not interested,' he finished.
The man stopped laughing and sighed.
'Don't protest too much, dear, it gives people quite the wrong impression. In any case, he doesn't care what you are as long as you're willing to do what he wants. In fact, he might even ask me to do you for him, the lazy devil. Not that I would. You don't want that, do you?' The man was closer and had turned on that peculiar penetrating gaze. 'But never mind all that business. I like this place and it would be such a bother having to find somewhere new to shop. '
David stared, unable to make his lips form a proper word, as though he were dreaming. He had quite lost the thread of the conversation, dimly aware that it had been alarming but now had changed. There was something about the man's face and his eyes - they seemed so open and kind and if he could, David thought that he might want to stare into them for a long, long time and who knew what he'd find there.
'No, you don't. You wouldn't like him, at least, not for very long. So, here's my advice.' The man touched him on the face. 'Be good. Be fair.'
David pondered that. It seemed a good idea. A really good idea. Time passed like honey dripping off a spoon.
'And for Heaven's sake if you can't be either at least try and be a little less greedy and narrow-minded. While we're here,' he leaned very close and whispered intensely in David's ear, 'remember that this country's very short of welders.' His hypnotic voice paused, then. 'One more thing, my dear. Is that tie really that much?'
'No,' David murmured.
'A twenty percent discount for a good customer, perhaps? That would make it more affordable. And a fair price too,' he said loudly to the ceiling, for some reason.
'Yes, I think so,' David, his eyes drooping shut. He wanted to curl up and sleep now, for a long time.
'Wake up now, my dear. Come along.'
The man clicked his fingers annoyingly. David couldn't work out why. He took the tie over to the till and found that it was only £84 after all.
'Put it on my account. That's right, my name's Mr Fell.'
Finally he left, the bell above the door chiming softly as he walked out.
'All right?' Mike said, coming out of the back of the shop.
'Do you like this job?' David asked slowly.
Mike raised his brows. 'Yes. We get some lovely customers.'
'I think I want to do something that's more me.
'Such as?'
'Welding sounds quite interesting.'
daegaer! *throws confetti* Birthday fic (cunningly combined with the drabble challenge you asked for many aeons ago) for you:
***
Cultural notes: TopMan is a very trendy shop for young men in the UK. Cheap, cheerful and loud. The UK really does have a crisis in its numbers of welders, and in people going into trades generally.
***
David thought of himself as a perceptive young man. He was sure he was wasting his talents in his new job and he should never have moved from TopMan. The pay was much better here and there was training, but the shop lacked a pounding music system and the clothes were old-fashioned, even if they were pricey. The customers were even worse: some people who came in looked like they might even be nearly fifty.
Stuck behind the counter everyday, it was as if he'd been here for ever, an expert in attaching clothes to hangers or being able to tell a man's inside leg measurement just by looking. Not something he wanted to put on his CV. No, what he wanted was to go into something more him, except he hadn't decided what it was or how to go about it. Modelling would be great - all those fit birds hanging around. Not that he ever needed any help finding girls. He pouted at himself in the small round mirror that stood near the tie rack and discreetly ran a hand over his stiffly gelled hair. He was sure he had the cheekbones for it and it was amazing what they could do with spot concealers these days.
Or, if for some unknown reason the modelling didn't work out, his plan was to go into proper Sales. He was good at selling stuff and his sales bonuses were the highest of any of the staff. He had a knack, his manager had told him, and could go far. The trick was to pretend you liked the customer - give them a bit of flattery, (very slimming, sir), make them feel good, then you'd got the suckers. Twist them round your little finger and then hit them where it hurt - in the wallet. And they could afford it too, the rich bastards who came in this place. He found it thrillingly easy to make them want something they didn't need or even like, sometimes. But in his spare moments, when no one needed their inside leg measuring, he dreamed of selling sports cars or property, not shirts and underpants. He closed his eyes briefly and imagined the smooth, sleek lines of a Porsche, and the smooth sleek lines of his future bank account.
Ye, he was talented. He'd got their current customer pegged from the start. Forty-something, lived alone, almost certainly very boring, good at looking after himself (well-ironed collar, stain-free tie). Well dressed but old fashioned. Looked fairly well-off. Another thing occurred to him, watching the man run his fingers over some ties. Arse bandit. Definitely. He grinned - that always made things a bit easier, as long as they kept their filthy hands to themselves. A few smiles and a touch or two on the arm promised them everything and gave them absolutely nothing.
He gave the man a critical once-over. 32 inch leg, 36-inch waist, but needed to move up to a 38 by the looks of things. This one was going to buy exactly the same clothes as he had on now. He rolled his eyes discreetly at Mike, who was tidying the sock display, making a limp wrist and a discreet thumbs-up sign. Mike looked away quickly, frowning. The customer looked at David with a soft, mild expression and opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind.
Then he smiled.
Later on, David was hot, tired and considering just walking out. This customer was a live one, and no mistake. He'd resisted every single one of David's most tempting offers, even when David had smiled charmingly and stood too close; he refused to move up to a slightly more expensive make of suit, or to invest in a new set of matching luggage that came with a free golfing umbrella. He politely declined to buy it all on the shop's discount card, which Sir could apply for right at this moment.
Before that it had been an hour of shirts, and before that there'd been the forty-five minutes spent trying on trousers. He'd only bought one pair. David counted it a success of the day that he'd managed to get the bloke to move up a waist size. 'Very slimming, sir,' had worked as well as it ever did.
The man had agreed, but only after staring in the mirror for ages, muttering something about too much sitting around reading and not enough flying. David didn't see the difference and quite honestly didn't care- you sat down for both after all, didn't you? God, he was dying for a cup of tea. Wouldn't this bastard ever leave? He sighed loudly, not caring that it was rude. Sir was currently gazing at the revolving tie rack. He'd been doing that for half an hour, swinging it round occasionally with one finger. It squeaked.
'Oh dear, I am taking rather a long time, aren't I,' the customer said, giving him a quick sideways look and then another, broader, smile. 'You know, I actually only came in to look at the ties, but you were so pleasant I thought I'd try a few things on at the same time. You're new here, aren't you? What happened to Derek?'
'He left. He was, you know, getting on a bit,' David said, baring his teeth in a smile. Ties! After spending nearly all afternoon bugging him, he'd only come in for a tie!
He was beginning to feel quite dizzy, standing at the man's elbow. He refused to smile back. This bloke was creepy, he'd decided-- the way he looked speculatively at David made him twitchy and he was seriously worried that his friendly act had been too convincing. What if this bloke was only hanging around because of that? It was just what he didn't want, some pathetic, lonely old queer taking an interest.
The man turned to look at him full on, eyebrows raised. His gaze was shocking, somehow. Just like, David thought afterwards, those dreams where you're inexplicably naked in public.
'Oh, don't worry, I'm not,' the man said, leaning in with another bright smile and a broad wink, before plucking a tie from the rack.
David blinked. 'Huh? But I didn't say anything.'
'Now, I have a very special friend,' the man was saying. 'I want to get him a tie and I'd like your opinion, as a young person. I'm terrible at keeping up with these things. What do you think of this one?'
He held up a silky, gold-coloured scrap of cloth that had a designer label discreetly attached.
Special friend. Right.
'S'nice,' David said, finding that smiling was easier when he thought of a sale. It was a very expensive tie. 'Is it for a special occasion?' he offered.
'Oh no.' The man was still looking at the tie. 'Between you and me, I think it'll go with his eyes.' He moved the bit of fabric around to catch the light. It shimmered and seemed to change colour, from amber to bronze. 'Exquisite.'
Exquisite. You fucking fairy.
'Is it expensive?'
'Yes, erm,' David checked the tag, '£105.'
'He likes expensive things, you see. Priceless things, you could say,' he said, sliding an odd glance David's way.
It did look good, David admitted. Stylish. Despite wanting this bloke to drop dead, he wondered what this 'special friend' was like. If he was anything like this character, he certainly didn't want to meet him.
'I think he'd like to meet you though,' the man said, as if answering David's thought. Which was impossible. 'Something tells me you'd get on very well together.' The man winked again. 'Shall I tell him to come and see you? I'm sure he'd love his inside leg measuring, especially by someone so charming.' He seemed to find this inordinately funny and giggled for far too long.
David bridled, his professional smile dropping of his face like a brick. This was going too far. 'Listen mate, I'm not a fucking qu--' he stopped short, considering the potential sale and his monthly bonus, and took a breath, '-- not interested,' he finished.
The man stopped laughing and sighed.
'Don't protest too much, dear, it gives people quite the wrong impression. In any case, he doesn't care what you are as long as you're willing to do what he wants. In fact, he might even ask me to do you for him, the lazy devil. Not that I would. You don't want that, do you?' The man was closer and had turned on that peculiar penetrating gaze. 'But never mind all that business. I like this place and it would be such a bother having to find somewhere new to shop. '
David stared, unable to make his lips form a proper word, as though he were dreaming. He had quite lost the thread of the conversation, dimly aware that it had been alarming but now had changed. There was something about the man's face and his eyes - they seemed so open and kind and if he could, David thought that he might want to stare into them for a long, long time and who knew what he'd find there.
'No, you don't. You wouldn't like him, at least, not for very long. So, here's my advice.' The man touched him on the face. 'Be good. Be fair.'
David pondered that. It seemed a good idea. A really good idea. Time passed like honey dripping off a spoon.
'And for Heaven's sake if you can't be either at least try and be a little less greedy and narrow-minded. While we're here,' he leaned very close and whispered intensely in David's ear, 'remember that this country's very short of welders.' His hypnotic voice paused, then. 'One more thing, my dear. Is that tie really that much?'
'No,' David murmured.
'A twenty percent discount for a good customer, perhaps? That would make it more affordable. And a fair price too,' he said loudly to the ceiling, for some reason.
'Yes, I think so,' David, his eyes drooping shut. He wanted to curl up and sleep now, for a long time.
'Wake up now, my dear. Come along.'
The man clicked his fingers annoyingly. David couldn't work out why. He took the tie over to the till and found that it was only £84 after all.
'Put it on my account. That's right, my name's Mr Fell.'
Finally he left, the bell above the door chiming softly as he walked out.
'All right?' Mike said, coming out of the back of the shop.
'Do you like this job?' David asked slowly.
Mike raised his brows. 'Yes. We get some lovely customers.'
'I think I want to do something that's more me.
'Such as?'
'Welding sounds quite interesting.'
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Date: 2004-09-13 08:46 am (UTC)Thank you!