[Open] Perhaps this is the spice of life

[firewalled]

Who: Rich Goranski, a few embarrassed employers, and you!
When: From August 8 through to the 16th
Where: Tumeric or not Tumeric
What: Rich starts his new part time job as a spice salesman with his usual amount of enthusiasm. It... well, he's a little confused but he's got the spirit.
Warnings: Small mention of abuse/alcoholism. Also a writing quirk to hopefully get Rich's lisp across. It can be dropped in tags!

[So Rich was, as consistently and ironically as ever, completely broke. A bemused but sympathetic shopkeeper had taken his last bit of American money in exchange for a proper meal his first night, but after that, with his debit card useless, he didn't have a dime to his name.

Sure, he could live and eat without any real concern for money, but Rich wasn't going to be content with just that. There were clothes and books to purchase too, plus he definitely didn't want to stay in the barracks for however long he was stuck here, so that meant getting enough saved up to buy a place.

Should be a lot easier to do that than it was when he was losing three quarters of his cash to his dad's booze fund. Plus, it seemed the city had a lot of businesses looking for part-timers to help out! Making deliveries was easy and a good source of exercise, and now it was time for Rich to try his second job.

Tumeric or Not Tumeric is definitely an odd little shop, probably one that Christine would love. They seemed to have put as much emphasis during Rich's informal interview on theatrical performance as they did on their actual knowledge of their wares. Rich was asked to do a bit of improv work, which was certainly easy enough. Alliteration was fun, and had a bit of a rhythm to it when spoken aloud that had Rich bouncing on his feet. That eagerness and flair for the dramatics got Rich his job.

When the shopkeepers started teaching him the names of the different spices, they might have regretted their acceptance for a few moments.

Whenever someone passes by the storefront, Rich will eagerly wave them over so he can begin reciting.]

Salutations! Sorry to sidetrack your shopping experience, but I simply must insist that you stop and survey our scandellous selection of special spices! We've got subtle saffron, perfect for rices and ricottas, sweet cinnamon for your custards and cakes, and don't forget the citrus notes of sage for a succulent added scent to your sauces! Be sure to see me, starting salesman at this successful establishment, for any answers to your most intelligent inquiries about any of these wonderful wares!

[Rich ends his speech with an exuberant flourish, spreading his arms wide. The shopkeepers and a few gawkers awkwardly clap. And then Rich turns to look at you, breathless but jittery with anticipation.]

So? How'd I do?

Comments

[bleedinghare]

Grinning, Adeline gives a lighthearted bob of her curls. "You flatter me! And— why, as you might make any other sale! Unless more personal treatment is how you feel so inclined, that is. Am I so easy to read?"

[firewalled]

"I don't think you're easy to read. I'm just trying my best not to piss you off. I think it's just lucky if it's working."

He clears his throat. "So! Do you happen to do a lot of cooking, Ada? Because I just so happen to know some great recipes with these spices..."

[bleedinghare]

"You shouldn't sully such a sweet face with such bitter language."

The velour of Adeline's glove is soft on the innermost side of his arm. "―oh, is that so? I'm not one to cook much, but I have been known to bake when I can spare the extra moment."

[firewalled]

"Bitter? Is it that big of a deal if I swear? I get you want to be a lady, but I'm probably the furthest thing from a gentleman."

He does beam at her answer though. "Well, you're in luck! I know some cookie recipes that are great with a dash of cinnamon! It works well, especially with ginger or pumpkin... Oh, and we can't forget cinnamon buns!"

[bleedinghare]

"I've seen much further, if you can believe it!" Ada grinned, peering along the canisters of spices and their gilt-adorned labels. "Besides, some of the finest examples of gentlemanly manner come from the humblest of beginnings, didn't you know?

She gives a little hum of pleasure, clearly pleased― clearly playing right into his trap. "Oh, doesn't that sound wonderful? Cinnamon and ginger, yes... oh, and vanilla, too!"

[firewalled]

"Well, I guess you'd probably be right that I've got a humble beginning. I'm much closer to a pauper than a prince. Unless the scars make me more Quasimodo."

That was exactly what he was hoping to hear, and he beams much wider.

"Yes, exactly! Cinnamon goes well with just about any kind of sweet flavour, so the baking possibilities are nearly endless."

[bleedinghare]

Adeline matches his smile with one of her one― softly coy, warm.

"Consider it sold, then."

[firewalled]

"Yes! You won't regret this, I promise! Just the cinnamon, then? Or do you want to try the other spices?"

He packages one satchel, but he gestures at the other two with the quirk of his eyebrow.