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Clark Kent (ex_sonofkryp215) wrote in wariscoming,

"Four dollars and ninety-nine cents. With tax." Clark nodded off at the watermelon. "That should round off to about...five...thirteen. I think." The taxes were a little funky in the store. He had yet to memorize the exact run on all of them as of yet. He'd figure it out eventually. "We can get the exact total at the registers. Want me to carry that for you?" Yes, boy scout. But so what? When a man was raised with manners, he was supposed to use them. His parents had taught him extremely well.

At her question, Clark lifted his brows and shrugged. "Maybe? Have you been in the market before?" He didn't remember all the faces that wandered through, but she did seem a bit familiar herself. A tiny bit. "It doesn't matter." He looked as though he were about to offer her his hand, but then stopped at the sight of the melon. Right. Couldn't shake hands when she was holding that. "I'm Clark."