Seventeen.
We stepped outside to a bright, sunny day. It was mild, but not too cold- perfect for jeans and the light jumper I was wearing over a one-shouldered, loose grey top. You settled for a simple, short-sleeved t-shirt, assuring me you wouldn't be cold. We walked down the street, your arm loosely around my shoulders. I didn't make much of it; I simply enjoyed your company.
We went and visited Harry at work. It was a cute little store, and surprisingly busy- to be honest, I wouldn't buy any of what was in here. The incompetent sales staff, namely Harry, didn't help. I chuckled when I caught the last bit of his explanation of some sort of appliance and why it's the "best sixty bucks she'll ever spend".
But the slightly aged lady seemed happy enough, as she proudly grabbed her box and went smiling to the counter.
"Still ripping off the old ladies, huh?" You and Harry did some weird handshake thing.
"As if. That thing's a great buy." Harry failed to contain a grin.
"Harry, you just convinced some poor old lady that a curling iron will turn her into Marilyn Monroe."
"It'd work wonders for you too, love," he ruffled my hair.
"Hey!" I punched him playfully in the side.
His eyes fell slightly, probably to the blue in my hair that was resting on my shoulder.
"Oi, what's with the blue?"
I paused. I went to speak, and paused again.
"It's for my mum." I eventually said.
There was an awkward silence. I sensed Harry wanted to ask more, but I also knew you were standing behind me, glaring at him and mentally punching him in the nose. And I think Harry knew it too, so he shut up.
"So is there any real reason you guys are here?"
"No, not really." You replied, thankful for the not-so-subtle change in subject.
"Hey Bec, how about this toaster?" He held up a dinted box, with a big "Made in China" label on the front.
I couldn't help but smile.
"Why do I need a toaster again?"
"My dear, the real question is: Why don't you need this toaster?" Harry put on his salesman-voice. He sounded an awful lot like the guy from
the ShamWow commercials.
"It can toast up to four slices at once, which is double the amount any ordinary toaster can make. It'll do up your toast in half the time your current
toaster does. But get this- it can be battery operated!" Harry slightly lifted the box, so as to present it in its full glory- as glorious as a dinted and
dodgy-looking toaster box can be.
But now he had me intrigued. Hell, I didn't need a toaster, but I didn't know those things could be battery-operated.
"You're kidding!" My jaw dropped.
He grinned.
"I'm dead serious, it's great. Just get the toaster, get some AA batteries at the counter and you're good to go!" He handed me the box.
You laughed, before taking the box back off me and returning it to the shelf.
"Harry, quit bullshitting her, man."
"What can I say? I'm a salesman."
"Excuse me?" Another old lady tapped Harry on the shoulder.
