Prompt-O-Rama

The Trophy Battle (Prompt: Frustration)

"... you need a glossy, retro modern figurine that is worthy of a peerless achiever... and it should be an emblem of something profound?" the old man looked at me as though I were something that a crow would discard after gnawing. "You sure you aren't in the wrong shop, son?"

One more incorrigible person. Why is it so difficult for someone to understand what I need, more so a man running a shop that sells trophies? He must be encountering none but the triumphant or at least those such as myself who strive to honour them. I cringed in exasperation. I don't know what joy these men find in remaining willfully ignorant. I found the old man staring at me, equally unimpressed.

Even as we stood like boxers waiting for the bell to lunge at one another, a sprightly young man walked in. "What's the matter?" he said, sensing something wasn't right.

"This man here wants something I don't understand. Something glossy and less..." the old man stuttered. I was livid. Can't men remember the simplest of phrases even for a few moments?
"Let me take care of this. How can I help you, sir?" the youngster said.

"Let me try and make it simple. A figurine that's glossy and retro? Is that simple enough?" I said. The boy turned away, concealing what appeared to be a smirk. He then turned around to the old man to give him a solemn look.

"Ever seen the Oscar man?"

"Yeah."

"How does he look?"

"Shiny. "

"He's got hands, legs and a face we can see clearly?"

"Yeah!"

"Shiny Oscar man, with a flat face, blunt legs and hands, and no nose or eyes. That's what he wants." the young man shrugged.

"Ah! He needs an unfinished-business-doll?" The old man seemed to have understood something and his face brightened.

"Yeah!" the young man shrugged and turned towards me. "How many do you want, sir?"

"Sorry. I don't understand what unfinished-business-doll is. I need something..." I started, and the young man interrupted.

"Don't bother to repeat, sir. Retro, glossy figurine that's abstract and looks out of the world. Something for great achievers, right? I overheard." I nodded, relieved.

I walked out after paying an advance. Someone had finally managed to understand what I wanted. I must admit I ignored the old man's, "the chap looks educated, but doesn't speak like one," murmur. He was blaming me for being inarticulate, and it did get me worked up. Sadly, his was the only trophy shop I knew of and so, I couldn't afford to rub him on the wrong side. Even if there were more, I wasn't certain if they had assistants who were capable of understanding my need.