Who: Bobby Finstock and MJ What: Finstock just really wants to help! When: June 20 Where: Streets Rating: low
Today was turning out to be a very strange day for Finstock. The thing was, while he could be loud and take up attention (usually at the most inopportune time), he was not actually an extrovert. Perhaps he was better described as an ambivert who could be loud and proud, but he could also spend days in solitude and not go insane - the man had layers. But today, it wasn’t just about being outgoing, he was doing things he wouldn’t normally ever do.
He woke up and bought the entire line at Starbucks their drinks. Uh, hello? Teacher’s salary. And yet while he knew he should be annoyed and upset with himself, he didn’t until an hour later when there were no official ‘take backs’. Then he had offered to hold an infant child who was screaming for a mother who needed a few moments to collect themselves. This resulted in some spit up on Finstock’s shoulder which he had wiped off, but it was still pretty much there. Currently he just finished squeegeeing a car’s windshield. Finstock had no idea why he went out and bought a set of squeegees, but he did.
“Jones!!” He saw the young woman walking and he found himself walking up to her. He held out a squeegee. “Want to help clean people’s windshields with me? Oh, your shoe’s untied.” Finstock knelt and yes, yes he was tying MJ’s shoe for her.
MJ just left Starbucks, coffee in her hand, confused. Since when did Coach pay for anyone’s coffee let alone everyone who stood in line? She wouldn’t complain about the free iced coffee, but she still felt confused.
Even more so, when she noticed other weird things happening in this town. Why were so many people being nice? It felt like a weird situation and she didn’t think she particularly liked it.
Okay, what the actual fuck? When Coach bent down to tie MJ’s shoe, MJ stared at him. “Uh, thanks Coach.” She shrugged. If he wanted to go squeegee cars, MJ didn’t plan to stop him. She supposed she could help, but whatever force had made him want to be helpful hadn’t hit MJ.
“Are you okay, Coach?” MJ wanted to ensure this didn’t involve body snatchers or some such nonsense.
"Yes! No." He climbed back to his feet and sighed. "Maybe?" Finstock was having difficulty picking an answer between truthful and whatever would make MJ happy. It was a strange turmoil for someone who didn't normally care too much about being honest.
He was clearly having an internal struggle before he went with, "What answer would you prefer?"
Okay now she felt her mild concern morph into moderate concern. “This has to be Dome related, right?” God, MJ hoped so, because this new version of Coach started to give her a headache.
“I’d like the honest one, which I think you just gave me. Why don’t we take a break from using the squeegee? We can go back to that soon. I promise.” MJ wondered if she could feed the Coach a doughnut or something. Would an alteration in blood sugar help?
“I’m going to with ‘yes’ considering I’m really considering going to that store over there and clean the hand prints on that window.” In fact, it was bothering him that he wasn’t. He was trying to reason with himself that he’d be taking someone’s job away and what if that person lost their job because he did it? It was stupid reasoning, but so far wasn’t making him go over to the window, so whatever worked.
He reluctantly let go of the squeegee. “Are you doing alright Jones?” Yep, he was asking that. But he wasn’t squeegeeing?
MJ felt relief when he at least stopped holding the squeegee. He’d probably pick it up again in a moment or two, but that felt like a problem for future her and future Coach. “Well, how about I help with the storefront, after you sit for a minute.” MJ would help with that if nothing else, simply because even she could see the handprints needed to be cleaned.
“I’m doing okay, Coach. Sad the college doesn’t have lacrosse, but I’m at least keeping on top of workouts.” MJ didn’t get into how confused she still felt about Peter and Liz for obvious reasons. “How about you, Coach?”
Coach was very appreciative that she did not share her romantic issues to him. He sometimes had a hard time managing his own so it wasn’t like he’d be much help in that department, though she’d probably be surprised and maybe horrified to learn he had once been in a poly relationship for a bit. Ah, college.
“Oh, you know. Trying to relax with summer vacation and instead having the Dome constantly throwing weird stuff at me. Typical, really. At least there’s no comet heading to kill us or something, though I wouldn’t be surprised if that was next.”
Yeah, she’d find that news rather surprising. And would prefer neither of them knew about the other one’s love lives.
“You’ve just jinxed us, Coach.” Although, she did appreciate the lack of dinosaurs after Liz told her about her adventures with Peter at Jurassic Park. “But yes, if this is the worst thing, we’ll survive, even if I’m a little concerned about your sudden attachment to a squeegee.”
“What? Oh, no, no it’s not the squeegee itself.” Unless she was implying the squeegee was somehow responsible for all this. “It’s more like I’m having the urge to offer to help you across the street or take a toothbrush to that graffiti right there… if you can call that graffiti. Looks like scribbles to me - no, that’s mean. They could have some sort of disability.” Ugh, this was exhausting.
MJ looked at Coach. “Go home and take a nap. Seriously. If it makes you feel better, I will go squeegee off the handprints.” Although she agreed with the graffiti assessment. “It’s not terrible, but I’ve definitely seen better done graffiti back home,” she admitted.
“You could use some time away from people before you do something like buy dinner for the whole lacrosse team or something.”
He paled at the example. "Don't give me ideas Jones!" Seriously, it was starting to sound like a good idea. He didn't have that kind of money - he was a teacher. "I think you're right… you promise to wash that window and I'm going to go hide in my apartment until I hate most people again." Hopefully that wouldn't be too long, right? Caring this much was exhausting.
Finstock gave her another look, then sighed almost reluctantly before he forced himself in the direction of the apartments.