Frankie was at a loss. He wasn't often found to be at all indecisive but the two halves of his brain were at sudden war with one another, one desperate to put as much distance between him and this woman -- if she was a woman, if she was even human -- as possible and the other chomping at the bit to open a new avenue of business. It was nice to be able to splurge a little more often than usual, after all, but this one seemed as though she'd put a bullet between his eyes as soon as look at him if the right mood struck.
"It rotates," he blurted, shrugging. "I mean, whenever I get scheduled. Just a couple days, though, Wednesday and Thursdays more often but still... kind of random. Part-timers don't get the pick of the litter, ya know?"
His coworkers suddenly came to mind: Lori, the single mother with three young children, Ed, the combat veteran who stood behind the counter on a prosthetic leg, even the owner, Chuck... Frankie had the distinct impression they wouldn't appreciate a visit from the brunette, surprise or otherwise.
"But I'm the only one who can help you shift things under the table," he added quickly. "Everybody else, they're all on the level. Too honest for their own good, couldn't spot a good deal if it bit them in the ass."