Corrie Pye is good at leaving (corriespondence) wrote in alleyrpg, @ 2010-07-21 20:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, 2030: 07, character: corrie pye, npc, place: other |
RP: Corrie
Date: 21 July,
Characters: Corrie Pye, npc coworker
Location: Sainsbury's
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Summary: Corrie is unexpectedly and unintentionally obliviated while at work.
Work was fairly boring that day. Work generally was - and it was best to just enjoy it and sink in like an old sofa, because the boring moments at Sainsbury's were vastly preferable to the hectic ones, full of screaming children knocking down displays and smearing things onto the tile, or pulling all the goods off the shelves as they ran down the aisles, or leaving unpleasant messes that were, sadly, not as mysterious in origin as such things used to be.
Actually, children were the cause of most of Corrie's work-related problems, both at Sainsbury's and as a mascot. Not so much on the broom-testing side of things, but just wait, someone would find a way to introduce them, and then she'd have another reason to narrowly watch kids whenever they appeared. Watch, and wait for the catastrophe.
It was much easier to deal with when you were dressed as a lion, she thought, surreptitiously following a mother and child with her eyes and trying not to look like a creeper. They were drawn to you then. They liked you then - well, most of them. And it was a lot easier to think of ways to distract them. But at the grocery store, kids were a disaster waiting to happen.
She was listening to a pair of kids chatter to each other as they followed an older girl down the next aisle (you never knew when they could strike), and had just glanced up to see and smile at an approaching coworker when it happened. Seemingly for no reason, Corrie's face unfocused, the smile sliding away without a care in the world. The jar that slipped from her suddenly slackened grip was not quite so lucky.
The crash made her jump to her feet and stare at the mess - tomato sauce, everywhere. "All right, love?" said her coworker cheerfully - everyone broke a jar here and there - but she stopped in place when she saw Corrie's face. The daydream quality that had been there a moment before was quite gone, and she looked far more alarmed than you'd expect of someone who'd just shattered a jar of pasta sauce. At least, more alarmed than someone who'd been at the job for a year already and knew that wasn't the end of the world.
"Hey, Laurie dear, don't worry about it," she tried. "I'll get the mop and we'll have it sorted in no time, right?"
The girl's head jerked up and turned the disconcertingly wild stare on her. "How did I get here?" she said.
"Same way as always, I expect," said the woman, laughing a little nervously. "I don't ask questions, it's a bit impolite." What was going on with the girl? Anyone would think she'd gone mad in a moment.
"I wasn't here a second ago, Sam," she insisted. "I wasn't, I was back in my flat and on my computer. Did I app-" she stopped suddenly, as if she'd been about to say something she shouldn't, and her confusion grew. "What am I even doing back here? I already had my shift today, I opened and went home - what time is it?"
Sam shook her head. "It's just past five, love, and you opened yesterday - you're closing today, remember?" Silly girls, getting their heads mixed up and causing a fuss. Not that Laurie'd ever done that before that she knew, but she was still of that age.
"No I'm not, I'm closing Wednesday!"
"It is Wednesday, child," the older woman said, frustrated.
"No, it's..." Sam was startled to see a look of utter bewilderment on the girl's face.
"It should be Tuesday," she mumbled, her arms slack at her sides. "It's supposed to be Tuesday, what happened to Tuesday?"
It was against store policy, but Sam was a motherly woman and couldn't help herself - Laurie's expression didn't look like an act. She reached over and put an arm around the girl. Good God, she was shaking. Only a bit, but it was there. "There there, love," she said reassuringly, though she wasn't sure why she was reassuring the girl over something like the day of the week. "You've had a funny turn, that's all. It happens to the best of us." She hesitated, then forged on heartily. "I'll tell you what I'll do - I was just headed over to talk to the manager, I'll tell him you're ill and had to go home, all right? It's no trouble, we're slow tonight anyway, we should be able to close just fine without you. Just wait until I've brought a mop and a caution sign for this little mess, all right?"
Laurie gave her a surprisingly grateful look - either the girl was a brilliant actress or she really was frightened right now, though by what, Sam couldn't say. She'd looked a bit funny and out of it for a moment there, but who didn't find their mind wandering down the aisles and out the door on occasion? "You'd do that?"
"It's no trouble, love," Sam repeated soothingly. She gave her young coworker's back a friendly pat and pulled away. "There - that's better, right? Just wait a few minutes while I talk to the boss. Oh - and probably for the best if you let me finish stocking those jars, too."
Laurie gave her a weak smile, and stood by the broken jar while Sam walked off, clucking to herself. Young girls really were odd sometimes.