WHO: Penny and Declan WHAT: Another Random Run-in WHERE: A Consignment Shop on the Irish Side of Town WHEN: Tuesday Afternoon RATING: PG-13? STATUS: In Progress
With all that had happened in the last few weeks, Penny intended to find herself on the Irish side of town as soon as hell froze over. Either that or when her debit card got declined at the grocery store trying to buy raman noodles for lunch. With Christmas only ten days away, and her stomach growling, Penny had been left with few choices. What was certain was that certain possessions needed to be sold, the question was which ones and where? After much hemming and hawing (Penny loved her things), she had settled on selling the most valuable things she could stand to part with: some of her cocktail dresses. That led to the next problem: the best consignment shop in town was on the wrong side of the boundary between her own and the Irish animals. She had been slow in placing the dresses in the appropriate garment bags, screwing up her courage to cross enemy lines.
In the end, the whole thing had come down to one simple fact: as far as most people were concerned, she was Penny Schwartz, a nice Jewish girl from New Jersey who liked to play the blues. She just hoped that Bene’s recent surge of over-protectiveness didn’t mean she’d be followed today. Getting lectured for crossing the border wasn’t really on her list of things she needed to do this week, though neither had been selling a sizable chunk of her wardrobe. Finally feeling brave, Penny picked up the 5 garment bags with both arms, the sum total bulky enough to be awkward for a woman her size to carry, and made her way onto the bus.
A half-hour and a graceless exit from the bus later and she was walking into Yesterday’s, taking a deep breath – both to appreciate simply being warm again and the smell. She didn’t know what it was, but stores like this always smelled good, warm, like things that had been loved. Making her way to the counter, she dropped the bags unceremoniously and began the haggling process with the girl behind the counter. Penny had already decided on her bottom line, and she wasn’t leaving with a cent less. The sales girl, however, seemed to have something else in mind.
“Are you kidding me?!? This dress is practically an antique! Look at it! Look at the tag! 1964! My grandmother wore it to see the Beatles!” The small brunette’s voice was raised, the distinctive accent exaggerated by her frustration. So maybe the part about the Beatles was a lie, but she was fully committed to it.