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Tweak says, "Be my support. Be my bra."

It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-08-05 20:57:00

Entry tags:

eris, set

All I Need Is A Bike And The Road
Who: Charlie & Idris
What: Charlie stops by Idris' dealership for some parts for her bike.
Where: Idris' car dealership
When: 6:43 pm
Warnings: TBA

It was a beautiful day - bright, cheery sun in a wide, cloudless sky - though Charlie rarely had standards for such things, and what made it more so was what Charlie was looking at. She had the afternoon to herself, having been assigned a later shift in the day, and had taken it upon herself to go pick up some motorcycle parts she'd ordered. Having not had the opportunity yet to collect them, she made a trip of it - first stopping at a local taco place for lunch and now she was lingering in the lot itself, letting her eyes wander over the shapes of various Harleys and other models that were for sale. Already more than satisfied with her own set of wheels, she still was one to stop and appreciate beauty when she saw it.

She was almost tempted to ask to take one out for a spin, just to see how they handled, but she was stuck between choosing. It was doubtful that they'd let her take them all out, but if she whined and argued at the right places, it could happen; though once they realized she was in no position to buy, it might make her less welcome on the lot for future purchases. Not that that particular sentiment bothered her, but then again there was always the thought of coming back and trying one out per week, as a treat for having made it through another seven days of her hellish job.

For the moment, though, she was content to pace around them in slow steps, maybe feel a handle bar there, watch the sun glint off of a gas tank there. So lost in thought, she completely missed the sound of gravel being smeared across the ground, clearly making the noise of a shoe hitting pavement and heading in her direction.

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counterbalance
2011-08-09 04:18 am UTC (link)

It was easy to say that Idris enjoyed his job. Enjoyed it a lot, in fact. It wasn't only making sales, it was also connecting with people on a level that most would probably not think was possible in the dealership business. In a way, the true colors of others were shown as they were either easily led along into a sale (only the best deal, of course), or held out, not content to snatch up the first available vehicle that was offered at a low price. And then there were those that fit somewhere in between, neither here nor there but looking, always looking...

The young representative that had recently been hired had left early for the third time in two weeks. Idris was not pleased and his manager definitely wasn't, either. However, Idris had no problem with handling the sales floor alone; it came naturally to him after all of these years, the appropriate words leaping quickly to his tongue so that he could voice them and coerce--if needed--a potential buyer in the right direction. Almost all directions involving a sale made by him, in Idris' humble opinion, were most assuredly right (and getting better every day).

From his desk, Idris had noticed a young woman weaving her way through the car lot, stopping near the motorcycles and admiring them the way one would admire a prestigious sculpture in a museum--except these sculptures could be touched, handled, and eventually put to use as they were made to be. They were the classic 'daredevil' mode of transportation, bringing to mind images of young and old thrill seekers speeding along uncharted highways, entirely fearless with the steady purr of their engine to keep them company.

Idris checked his watch--three minutes, four--and then headed outside to speak with the woman.

"See anything you like?" He stated cheerfully as he approached her. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

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eristic
2011-08-09 06:26 pm UTC (link)

Charlie pulled a double-take at the appearance of the salesperson, her surprise shown quite plainly on her face, which she knew she should have expected. Still, she adjusted well, rolling her shoulders and tilting her head as though in thought.

Most of the bikes in front of her were more leisure vehicles and less the crotch rocket that she already owned. She wasn't one to cling to materialism, though, and doubted she'd ever have the funding much less the desire to purchase a second bike.

"Horrible fuckin' service is what I'd call it," she responded tartly, taking the opportunity to rib him. Maybe she'd pull out the process a little, just for fun, before giving the revelation that he had an ice cube's chance in Hell of getting a sale out of her.

Arms crossed loosely over her chest and her gaze turned to look him over, brows rising a tad in order to show that she found him wanting, though in what aspects were left to him to decide.

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counterbalance
2011-08-11 01:08 pm UTC (link)

It'd be a lie to say that Idris wasn't slightly taken aback by the woman's foul language. Clearly she was not in the mood for cajoling of any sort. He'd seen and dealt with her type before, the kind of people that thought speaking to a salesman was below their level, and they'd refuse at all costs to have the wool pulled over their eyes. (If there actually was any wool to act as a blinder; Idris was fair and honest in the deals he made with others, so what if he might embellish a warranty or gas mileage here and there? Sales were made, people went home happy and with a shiny new vehicle, and he earned a portion of the amount made. It was as simple as that. And honestly, how many people had come back with complaints? The list was very, very slim.)

And so he refused to frown, merely settling for a vaguely apologetic look, not changing his tone one bit. Regardless of the woman's choice in vocabulary or general aloof body language, he was not going to just turn around and leave her. Not without speaking to her first, at least. There were appearances to think of, as well as basic business etiquette. If anything, Idris prided himself in doing his job well, no matter if he might not make a sale with every (possible) customer.

"My apologies again, ma'am, I was delayed. We're unfortunately understaffed today, but that will not be a problem in the future. If you'd like to file a complaint form I'd be more than happy to get you one. However, I've noticed you seem to be a bit smitten with our new shipment of Harleys." He smiled easily now, deciding this was either going to be an extremely short visit or possibly something more. Regardless, he was off the clock soon and it'd all be somewhat behind him once he'd left the dealership. Idris held out his hand for her to shake, although he severely doubted she'd bother with something she probably deemed as trivial and unnecessary.

"My name is Idris Khalid, I'm the new assistant manager here at Cairo Automotives. And so you see, any complaints you have about the service will certainly be heard and taken into account. I would love to have an opportunity to make your visit to our dealership ten times better than how it's begun."

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eristic
2011-08-11 06:07 pm UTC (link)

Slipping her hands into her pockets allowed her to ignore the handshake - less because it was a trivial social action and more because she simply did not like to be touched. The smooth talking made her roll her eyes in amusement though - she was pretty familiar with people who were used to getting their way demanding that something be a particular way. Plenty of such customers were present at the malls she supervised in her security capacity. It was just funny to her that this guy was doing everything in his power to kiss ass. She'd had similar brain-wash training in the Corp, but even then she'd rarely ever paid respect to others, let alone her superior officers. Charlie took a few steps away from the salesman - Idris, but she was never good with names to begin with - instead choosing to circle the bikes as though she were actually interested in buying one of them.

"They ain't bad lookin', that's for sure. Ain't been much for leisure bikes, though," she continued, this time forgoing the language in exchange for a simple sentence that conveyed her lack of surety in purchasing a bike from his lot. She'd gotten her own bike from a dealership that catered to motorcycles specifically; not that there was anything wrong with getting a bike from a car dealership, it was just that they generally didn't have half the knowledge of a motorcycle dealership. Her gaze flicked to Idris once more.

"An' these are more expensive than I've seen other places. You guys do price matching?"

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counterbalance
2011-08-12 11:37 am UTC (link)

Idris dropped his hand after it was made clear that the woman was not interested in such a formality, lightly shrugging one shoulder. Couldn't win everyone over, but damned if it wasn't worth a shot, anyway. (Though it must be said that someone outright rolling their eyes at him was somewhat of a new thing, at least in the business area of his life. He chose to not find the action offensive.)

He appreciated the compliment about the bikes, for they were nice even if they weren't his type, either (Idris preferred flashy, fast cars with ample leg room and impressive dashboards.). No one could say that Cairo Auto. slacked when it came to quality shipments, roughly half of them being foreign imports. The business was expanding, wasn't it, and that was partially due to their selection, despite it generally catering to more...specific tastes. The prices were another story altogether, though the fine print and clever words took care of all that.

"We do almost everything save for Sunday morning coupon deals. Was there something in particular you had in mind?" He was being amicable, albeit he hadn't quite figured out her exact angle yet; she was a Looker, most likely, or maybe more devoted to bargain hunting than anything else.

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eristic
2011-08-13 05:16 am UTC (link)

In Charlie's mind, anyone who was going to buy a bike shouldn't necessarily skimp on the price; you were getting what you paid for, after all. Her own Suzuki had cost a pretty penny, but she found it well worth the price every time it handled a curve smoothly, or kicked up to an appropriate speed when she was on the freeway. But all she was doing was nitpicking, wasting this guy's time because she found it fun for no reason other than she had nothing else to do at that present moment.

"Just thinkin' about the Harley selection down over at EagleRider - plus they got the parts and the mechanics who know what they're doin'; what about yer place? I s'pose I'd have to go elsewhere to get repairs an' shit." The crude language slipped in there unconsciously - Charlie was just born inappropriate, as some would say, but it never bothered her at all. She continued to watch him with a sour face, obviously not pleased at all by what she was being told, despite the fact that Idris was doing all he could to make her happy. Small chance of that happening, except maybe for him to grow upset and explode in her face. For some odd reason, she always found it hilarious when people went off the deep end because of things she said.

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counterbalance
2011-08-14 01:26 pm UTC (link)

It was an automatic reaction, the arching of his eyebrows as the woman brought up one of the rival dealerships in the area. Of course there were others--monopolies in the vehicle business, in this part of the world? Say no more. Between the way she'd started this with an insult to Cairo Auto. and only continued the trend by mentioning a different dealership, Idris decided it was partially safe to assume she was doing nothing but window shopping. But then she mentioned something that made him wonder if part of her crankiness stemmed from a vehicle (or a bike, in all probability) in need of a little mechanical TLC. Things such as that were always a nuisance, and so it was no wonder that someone had spit in her proverbial cornflakes, should that be the issue at hand.

Luckily, one of the bonuses of this new branch was the addition of a shop around the back; true, it was still in progress, but by the end of the month there was no doubt that it'd be fully up and running. Nothing major, because Cairo Auto. would always be a place of sales business first and foremost before it ever became nothing but a repair junkie's getaway, but still. Newport Beach drew the right card in the guinea pig scheme of things, and the success or lack thereof gained here would determine whether or not a repair and touch up shop was to be a new staple.

And so Idris brightened just enough, as if his mood wasn't predominantly positive to begin with; the customer was giving him the right incentive he needed to pimp the new shop, so to speak. Practically handing it to him, even.

"Ah, fortunately you came to the right place! We're still relatively new to the area, as you may have already noticed, and our shop is one of a kind. This location actually is a pioneering sort for Cairo Automotives, since we've primarily only sold vehicles since the late sixties. But because we're under new management, changes and plenty more progress are only natural! If you're in need of a repair, depending on what it is, I'm sure we can handle it for you. You see, we're still in the beginning stages of opening, but it won't be long before everything is in tip top shape."

Idris had paid little heed to how the woman flavored her speech with expletives from the very beginning of their conversation, and he wasn't about to start now. A displeased customer was still a customer, no matter what, and the old rule of them always being right definitely wouldn't be ignored. Were their circumstances different, he might have handled this in a manner less full of pleasant statements, but never on the job would he stoop to such a level. (Not that he generally did in the first place, or so he liked to believe.)

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eristic
2011-08-14 11:31 pm UTC (link)

Either he was psychic or he had picked up on something she'd said or maybe it was a lucky guess - in the end, Charlie was a tad surprised by Idris' next suggestion. The change in mood registered on her face for only a moment before being engulfed once more by a general sour expression, but it lingered certainly long enough for him to see and potentially be rewarded by it. Still, the idea that this particular lot didn't deal solely in parts, but potentially also in people who know what the fuck they were doing was appealing to her, and her body language said so in a shift of posture.

"That right. I think I've got an electrical problem - the other day I was aimin' to take my Suzuki out for a spin, but it died flat 20 minutes out onta the road. Battery's new, and the starter looked fine, but I ordered some new wires just in case - from here, if yah wanna know - I'm thinkin' maybe the charging system could be faulty, but tah my eyes things don't look too bad.

"Might need a second opinion if I can't get the thing workin' again." The cat was out of the bag now, but at least this guy seemed to aim to please. He might not understand half of what she said, but if the garage ended up being something she liked, she could probably push this guy around enough to get a whopping discount.

"Instrument cluster just goes black, and it'd be a damned shame if that battery is faulty, 'cause I just got it not too long ago."

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counterbalance
2011-08-18 10:52 am UTC (link)

Oh, so it was vehicle trouble. Seems he'd struck the right chord, which pleased him. Mentioning the new shop had been the right move. No one could say he didn't know his way around the sales floor, even with the more...difficult customers. True, it could've just been luck, but he preferred to think otherwise.

Idris listened attentively to her complaints about a disobedient Suzuki in her possession, nodding at what he felt were the right moments. He was no expert on repairs, nothing past the basics, but that didn't mean he couldn't show concern. Everyone had car trouble now and then, it was only a matter of pinpointing the issue and moving on from there, either to getting the vehicle in question running like new again or tossing it into the trash heap. That's what mechanics were there for--to mend the mechanical problems of the many. Idris, on the other hand, was put on the planet to cut a deal.

It was late in the afternoon, but he was pretty sure the man that managed the shop was still there, unless he'd somehow clocked out and left the lot during this conversation. And if so, Idris figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal to get the woman's needed wires for her; there'd been a shipment of supplies and spare parts that had came in just recently, as a matter of fact. Whether or not everything was already in its place was another matter, as Idris spent most of his time on the sales floor and handling paperwork, but last he'd checked, the shop wasn't in a state of disarray. Neither he nor the manager above him would settle for that--have their place of business look run down in any fashion? No, that was completely unacceptable. The thing with selling people your wares was that image played a pretty big role in the grand scheme, the rest depended on communication and practical functionality of said wares.

"That is a shame," Idris replied, making sure he looked like he really did think it was--and he did, because playing the sympathetic role was another rule of thumb in making a connection with a patron. "Well, you can be certain if the new wires don't help your situation, our mechanics'll take a look at your bike and get it fixed up right as rain. Speaking of parts, we just got a shipment in today--been getting them in on a regular basis--so you might be able to work on your bike ASAP. Would you mind stepping inside with me? I'll check the invoices for you. And I don't think I got your name, Miss...?"

If the woman's main reason for being on the lot was to pick up her parts, she'd probably already received a call saying they were in. However, there was no way Idris was going to scrounge around for motorcycle wiring without knowing exactly who he would be selling it to, along with making sure the wiring was being placed in the right hands.

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eristic
2011-08-20 12:40 am UTC (link)

Charlie was never very good at telling sincerity from its sibling. Her mouth flattened into a line, disliking ever having to give out information about herself.

"Should be under Fairica. Charlie Fairica." Though it came off a bit Bond-esque, she was merely supplying the information in the manner he'd asked it. She wasn't against following Idris inside, for despite the semi-late hour, she was still enjoying the last dregs of sunlight. She rarely got outside often anymore, straddled between her job that kept her largely indoors, and her own apartment, though she did her best to get out through the excuse of taking Jack for walks and just a general day-to-day running pattern.

Her eyes moved from Idris back to the bikes, and her heart gave a little twist that she would be forced to bid the row of them u, but something told her she'd be back, though she knew in the back of her mind that there was no reason for her to purchase another bike. The idea of a premonition, or a sense of deja vu, was strange and laughable to her, but that was a little like how she was feeling now - shaking her head to dispel such thoughts, she glanced back up, waiting for Idris to lead the way, since he was doing such a good job of playing host thus far.

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counterbalance
2011-08-21 03:19 am UTC (link)

He took note of her name ("All right, Miss Fairica, this should only take a few minutes of your time.") and led her into the building, holding the door open for her. Once inside, he headed to his desk and sat down, but not before asking her to take a seat first--if she wanted to, of course. Most people preferred to sit while they waited, however, most people also didn't swear right off the bat. Whichever she chose, it was all ultimately the same to him in the end. Quickly Idris brought up on the computer their most recent list of invoices they'd received. Searching, he found what he was looking for and double-checked Miss Fairica's name. Sure enough, the wires she'd ordered had come in the mail last night and been categorized properly earlier this afternoon. He smiled at the results and then gave that same smile to his customer, his swivel chair moving easily so he could face her.

"Well, you'll definitely be able to work on that bike of yours. Your parts came in today, so let's get you set up and ready to do just that. I'll call down to the shop and see if Tony can't have them ready to go. Excuse me again for one minute." Idris hit the number for the shop on his desk phone, listening to the device ring once, twice, three times. A frown darkened his expression after the fourth ring and he hung the phone up, tapping the fingers of one hand on his desk restlessly. It wasn't that he was opposed to going and getting the parts for her himself--in fact, it'd be a good opportunity to show off the shop to a (hopefully) future, regular customer, but Tony had clocked out early. A little too early, Idris noticed with a glance at his watch. The time had gone by almost without him realizing it.

"Actually, if you'll follow me once more, I'll get them for you myself. The shop's right outside this door." Idris motioned with his thumb at the door behind him, positioned closer to the main manager's office. There was a small hallway leading from there into the shop itself, the walls extra insulated so as to not disturb the business that went on inside of the main building. Idris stood from his desk and led the way again, talking about the positives that came from having such a new shop in a great location, and the weather today was spectacular, wasn't it? He was very glad he'd moved to California, and here's the shop, excuse any excess clutter (there wasn't much, but he felt like he should add that in, nevertheless).

From behind the main counter, he sorted through the boxes of the newer, smaller shipments, finding the right one that held Miss Fairica's wires. Victoriously, he placed it on the countertop and grinned. "I believe I just found what you need."

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eristic
2011-08-21 06:37 pm UTC (link)

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.

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counterbalance
2011-08-31 10:02 am UTC (link)

"Oh, twenty-eight fifty," Idris answered freely, one hand resting on top of the box, the desired wires enclosed within. His grin dulled to a warm smile, though otherwise his good mood outwardly didn't waver. Tony, Mr. Leave Early, had tagged more than one of the boxes Idris found behind the counter with prices. At least he'd done that much, thank the gods or lack thereof for small favors. Idris was feeling upbeat regardless of Miss Fairica's generally sour disposition. He was making a sale despite her attitude, wasn't he? And, he reminded himself, there was always the chance of her brightening after she had what she wanted--and especially once her bike was working properly once more.

Perhaps she'd do business here again (or not). It was all the same to Idris; every dissatisfied customer was certainly a blow to the company in some respect, but overall, there had always been more happy, returning customers rather than the opposite. That was how it had been at his branch back in Mesa and he had full faith in the possibility--no, high probability--that it'd be the same here. Eventually. He wasn't completely satisfied with how everything was being run here in Newport Beach, but given time, things could definitely turn around and their sales would skyrocket reasonably. Dealing with the addition of a garage/shop was exciting as well as frustrating on its own level, but Idris put full faith in things looking up rather than down.

He'd personally speak to Tony on the morrow, which would no doubt be an unpleasant meeting, but it had to be done. Either he spoke to Tony or the main manager would. There was always a bit of sour with the sweet in life. It'd be settled before long.

Idris glanced down at a copy of the invoice he'd found on the computer, this one containing only the information for this particular order, Miss Fairica's name clearly printed on it. Looking back to the woman, he waited for her to hand over the correct amount. Their transaction could be quick and painless; she would be able to go attend to her bike's needs, and he would run through his list of end of the day duties to be taken care of before he locked up and went home. What happened from then onwards was entirely up to him, and he was looking forward to a little taste of evening freedom.

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eristic
2011-09-01 06:25 pm UTC (link)

It would be far too easy to dispute the price, make a huge fuss and get some kind of a discount. She knew the cost was fair - it was the sort of amount she'd been expecting, and as an avid motorcyclist, she was already well used to spending a pretty penny on keeping her bike in good shape - and she was itching more to get what she'd come for, leave, and get back to fixing her bike in order to take it out for an evening ride. The wallet that was produced was a man's wallet, leather and folded in half to hold cash as well as credit cards, of which Charlie only had one. She'd never been very good with numbers, and she figured less was more in keeping herself out of credit trouble. No fancy, huge wallets in purses for her, no, that was just ridiculous and over done and who needed to carry all that shit around anyway?

She pulled out two twenties (she always preferred to pay in cash - credit was a tricky thing, reserved for emergencies, mostly because she couldn't get past the idea that the money didn't belong to her and thus she was always wary of what exactly she was spending) and held them out over the counter for Idris' inspection. As long as he didn't do anything insulting like questioning whether she was using fake bills, this would be quick and painless and she'd be out of here fast. Though she was finding the garage to be very calming - for a moment she wondered why she hadn't gone for a career in car repair or structure, since it was something she was both familiar with and comfortable about. There was just something in violence, either the repression or enaction of, that called to her, making her want to salvage what she'd had in the Marines.

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counterbalance
2011-09-13 05:01 am UTC (link)

Idris palmed the money Miss Fairica offered to him, turning to the small register on the counter. Tony should've been doing this and not him. But no matter. Idris input the amount she had given him and after depositing it, handed back to her the change and receipt, counting the former out for her. Best to not make any miscalculations.

"...and eleven-fifty is your change. Here you go." And that was that, wasn't it? For now, at the very least. One side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile at the thought of the wires somehow not working. Oh, he was certain they would--unless the parts themselves were faulty, or if there was something entirely else wrong with her bike--but in any case, it might lead her back to Cairo Auto. They were having such a good time together, after all.

"Well, these should solve your problem, Miss Fairica. I certainly hope they do, anyway." He paused, letting the words linger on the tip of his tongue before continuing. "If you have any other concerns, feel free to give us a call or stop by; we're open every day but Sunday."

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eristic
2011-09-13 08:53 pm UTC (link)

An open palm received her change, the bills going back into the wide mouth of her leather wallet while the coins were shoved into a tight-fitting pocket. Sometimes Charlie bitched about the fact that women's clothing was so much tighter than men's, and this would have been one of those instances, but she was too eager to take her ordered parts and leave.

But she would have to admit, once she'd gotten back to Pax and repaired her bike, that this Idris guy had made things fairly quick and painless. Maybe if he loosened up and lost the sales-man shtick, there would be something likable about him. But for now it was the garage - potentially one of hundreds in the area - that was the only thing winning him any brownie points in her book.

"I'll keep it in mind," was her only response, picking up the package in her left hand while her right placed her wallet in her back pocket. Without further exchange or preempt, she turned on one booted heel and walked away, moving back through the interior of the dealership until she was back outside again and hailing a cab in order to head back to her apartment building and her bike.

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