Misc.

What's Your Number

It was Wednesday and Oscar didn't feel like doing anything. His little brother was staying with a couple friends for the weekend so he couldn't ask Atticus what he wanted to do. Technically he had a project to finish up but his hands were sore and rough with callouses from the constant hands on work. He took a shower and went to pull on his shirt afterwards only to find a giant hole where the arm connected to the back. Oscar frowned and threw the flannel over a chair pulling on a hoodie instead. Today he'd pick up a new shirt. 

With something to do, he put his boots on and grabbed his keys, leaving the apartment building and locking the door behind him. He took his truck across town and stopped in front of a small local thrift store. He didn't like getting stuff new. Everything was always so stiff and clean, while he liked something already broken in and somewhat worn out. To him, that meant you didn't have to worry so much about getting new things dirty or stained. He went inside and found the store completely empty. There was one guy at the counter and that was it. He looked kind with black curly hair and a fisherman sweater underneath the red work apron. The guys tag read "Timothy" and he smiled at Oscar when he walked in. Oscar smiled back and went to the men's section of the store. He sifted through the sweaters and flannels, to no avail. He was about to give up when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Can I help you?"

Oscar whirled around and saw Timothy standing behind him. He pushed his long messy brown hair behind his ear.

"Actually...yeah...I need a new shirt but I can't find one?"

"What do you mean. There's like a bunch of shirts right there." Timothy pointed to the rack. Oscar rolled his eyes and smiled a little.

"Duh. I mean like something that would..."

"Look good on you?" Tim finished the scentence for him. Oscar relaxed his shoulders and nodded.

"I can help you...there's no one else here and I don't really have anything to do so..."

"You would do that?"

"Yeah sure..why the hell not."

"Okay well...give me you expert opinion..Timothy." Oscar said, straightening.

"My expert opinion? I think you should try..." he looked through their inventory of sweaters and pulled out a cool brown, burgundy shaded patterned one. "This one." Tim held it out.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah man, try it on." 

"Can I have a couple more options?"

Tim nodded and looked some more, coming back with a blue flannel, and an off-white patterned one. Oscar tried them on and came out every time he put a new one on. Tim nodded a lot, obviously approving of his choices. Oscar put his hoodie back on and came back out.

"So?"

"All of them."

"Man shut up, you're just saying that to sell me more stuff."

"No! No I'm actually not. You look like a snack in all of those. And besides, I have no reason to be professional right now. I'm the only one here, remember?"

"Yeah okay fine." Oscar rolled his eyes. 'You look like a snack in all of those' lingered in his mind as he followed Tim up to the cash register. "Hey, uh, before I go...can I maybe get your number? I'm going to a party later and I need someone to bring." he said at the last second. The last part was a lie, Oscar hated parties, but he didn't want to just straight up ask, "Hey what's your number." Tim smiled and wrote it on the back of the receipt.

"Thanks." 

"You're welcome."