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I Was Born with a Snakelike Walk [Jason & Nick Bottom]
The days have a tendency to run together. That used to fill Jason with a sense of terror when he was younger, but over a decade ago the menial, tedious trudge from Monday to Saturday ceased to be a cause of agitation and instead simply became the status quo. Boredom is no longer something Jason fears; it has become something he embodies.
That's never more true than when he has to help customers, taking their money only to put it in the register for Earl to squander on his moralizing and simpering. Jason gets through the day with a vague sense of fury, but it's no longer attached to any tangible concern. He just wishes he were somewhere else, doing something else, surrounded by someone elses, and he doesn't have any particular detailed fantasy for this desire.
The little bell at the front of the store rings, and Jason takes the toothpick he's chewing out of his mouth and flicks it near the tureen where the dip goes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees not the usual sun-reddened yokel, but a large man with a softer body than one would need to work the fields, without the hump back of yanking a plow around or the tobacco-stained teeth all the farmers sport.
"You seem lost."
That's never more true than when he has to help customers, taking their money only to put it in the register for Earl to squander on his moralizing and simpering. Jason gets through the day with a vague sense of fury, but it's no longer attached to any tangible concern. He just wishes he were somewhere else, doing something else, surrounded by someone elses, and he doesn't have any particular detailed fantasy for this desire.
The little bell at the front of the store rings, and Jason takes the toothpick he's chewing out of his mouth and flicks it near the tureen where the dip goes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees not the usual sun-reddened yokel, but a large man with a softer body than one would need to work the fields, without the hump back of yanking a plow around or the tobacco-stained teeth all the farmers sport.
"You seem lost."
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Nick came prepared with that greeting. Jefferson was, for the most part, not too thrilled about the traveling troupe. The actors, chased out of town after town were used to it. But Jefferson seemed welcoming enough. Well they had until he walked into this particular store. Nick put his hands on his hips and grinned. He had either dragged Peter Quince or the little half girl to most spots as bribing devices. But today he was solo. His jacket barely closed in front of his rotund frame and his suspenders stuck out.
"Would you like to see a play? Open to the public in the town square! It's a helluva comedy! But also a mystery. And it Stars me, Nick Bottom! We are, before all else, a humble troupe of craftsmen"
He bowed.
no subject
He waits until Nick is done bowing.
"So you're blocking traffic in the town square and expecting people to, what? Applaud you for it?"