Who: Angelina and Alicia [Open] When: Monday Evening Where: Quality Quidditch Supplies What: Dealing with the customers, of course Rating: G Status: Thread / In Progress
She didn't think she had ever been so happy to wake up on a Monday morning before in her life. She had to work, but that was the best part. Monday's were always slow. First day back to work after the weekend. No parents. No kids. No idiots. The shop would be virtually empty for the better part of the day. She'd only have to deal with the regulars. The ones who actually knew a thing or two about Quidditch. After the nightmare of the past weekend, she was certainly glad for it.
That enthusiasm had died the moment she apparated to the front of the shop. Even from where she stood, she could see the various heads of customers milling about inside the shop. Their hands messing up displays and pulling at different products. What in the bloody hell? The store was never busy on a Monday. This was suppose to be her easy night at the shop.
It had taken several hours to first get all the customers organized and out the door with the proper purchases and then send Stacey home. As much as the girl wanted to help, Angelina found her chipper attitude to be rather tiresome. It wasn't natural for an individual to be continuously happy.
After the initial rush of customers, she had been given the quiet stretch she had hoped for, though instead of relaxing she was instead restocking, cleaning up, and finishing off the order that had yet to be done for the coming week. The order turned out to be the hardest of the three tasks. It wasn't that she didn't know how to do it, it was simply that the items on the list made her want to pull her own hair out. The owner of the shop had a tendency to order in large quantities of useless items. Colour changing Dragon hide gloves? Broomstick servicing kits that made the wood smell of roses? What self-respecting Quidditch player would want their bloody broom to smell like roses? It was during her internal rant that the door to the shop opened, the clear ringing of the little bell making her want to groan. It had bloody well better be someone who knew what the hell they wanted.