She declined to sit, instead hooking her fingers through the belt loops of her pants while she impatiently waited (as denoted by the tapping of one steel-toe booted foot on the tiled floor of the dealership). Was he really this disorganized? Not that she was a paragon of neatness, and anyone who saw her apartment would certainly attest to such a fact, but seriously. It really shouldn't take this long to find a simple order. Military life certainly left her thinking in a certain way, though she rarely applied it to her own life, she found endless ways to critique and criticize others through it. Now was such a moment, and the hard line of her mouth was there to greet Idris once he managed to scrounge up the order.
"Damn right I better be able to, got out here, 'spect to get what I came for since y'all called me to come get it," she more muttered under her breath, watching as he made a phone call to the garage. Apparently not all was in order, yet again, since his expression said something was amiss. Maybe she shouldn't order parts from here anymore, not if this kiss-ass was all she was going to get every time she showed up. But before she could comment on how long all of this was taking, Idris was directing her to follow once more, which she had to, since he pretty much just took off and left her to either exit the way she came or continue on to claim her package. The necessity born of wanting to repair her bike pushed her to follow his fleeting figure through another doorway.
She tuned out his endless speech - was he afraid of silence or something? - instead letting her eyes rove over the garage itself. Memories surfaced, of her dad's garage in Bull Creek, and the endless amount of time she'd spent there when she was a teen. At least things seemed to be in order down here, despite the lack of actual workers; that was a little disheartening, for she recalled her father's garage always bustling with workers. Surprising, that memory, considering how often her father spent with the bottle, but then again, he had hired capable men who managed the company and could have possibly felt sympathetic toward a man who'd lost his wife through strange circumstances.
Pulled away from her reverie, she glanced down at the box and felt relief. Here were the wires, she was in a familiar and somewhat comfortable setting, and for once in this entire event her hackles went down. Digging into her back pocket, she pulled out her wallet.
"How much?" The question was straightforward, lacked any expletives, and certainly wasn't her attempt to haggle - then again, that could all change the moment Idris dropped a number.