Given the size difference between the two of them, Oliver wasn't all that jostled by the run-in. He'd just been standing outside Madam Malkim's entertaining the idea of purchasing his Mother a new clock, when the woman had run into him, letting him know that he'd been standing there like a lump for a good period of time. "Nah, it's fine," he responded, his accent giving him away and speaking of how much time he spent back home, "My fault, for standing around."
He'd been in the Professional Quidditch circles for long enough that he was almost used to people he'd never met before recognizing him ... almost. It still left him feeling a little awkward from time to time. There was just something about talking to strangers that he couldn't quite get a hold on. It wasn't like he was afraid of it and she certainly didn't look like she was going to harm him. There really was no reason for his awkwardness, but that did little to prevent it.
"All right?" he asked, unsure of what the appropriate response would be. Should he have apologized? Probably. Damn it. Oh well, too late now. She didn't look like she was in a state caused by him being in the way, so that was a plus, at least. It was then that he noticed something, he really shouldn't have noticed earlier.
She was a woman.
Yes, yes. He'd realized this, but not in the capacity he was currently interested in. Women were good at shopping, right? So, it was a stereotype, but for once, Oliver was willing to lean on that and hope for the best. "I apologize if this is a bit forward, but can I ask for your opinion on something?"