"You don't know what's wrong with him?" Jerry was asking George as they stood in a Cleaners 1 Day service joint with Jessie. "All Simons was able to find out is that he's in the hospital," George imparted to Jerry. "Okay, fine. Has Simons been in touch?" Jerry inquired, a blue article of clothing hung from one of his arms. Jessie stayed silent with her arms folded over her chest, she was in deep thought, wondering how Jerry would propose in Vermont though she had no trace of proof and searching for the ring she wouldn't do as thats too sneaky!
"Of course he's been in touch with him! He left two messages... he just hasn't heard back yet," George shrugged, apparently clueless. After hearing this, Jessie stopped her train of thought and gave George her best scowling face which George saw. "You should buy a card for Wilkinson," she stated reasonably. "Yes, ma'am," George cowarded, causing Jessie to smirk. "Well, this is it, I'm sellin'!" Jerry said firmly after watching George and Jessie interact all so calmly. "Jerry, just give it a little more time," George requested serenely, trying to persuade his best friend who had his free arm around Jessie's shoulders.
Jessie smiled at Jerry reassuringly, noticing the light brown leather jacket he wore and his Navy Blue sweatshirt.
"I never shoulda gotten involved with this! I'm a nervous wreck, I'm not cutout for investing," Jerry degraded himself. "Alright, alright. Thats it! I'm gonna go down there," George announced, all serious like, raising a decisive hand and returned it to his side. Jessie and Jerry throw George dull, bewildered glances. "Where?" Jerry asked incredulously. "To the hospital," George replied significantly. "The hospital?" Jerry inquired curiously. "Oh, great. This is my fault," Jessie said gravelly. She didn't want George to fall into trouble under her account.
Jessie liked to avoid trouble.
"I'm gonna find out what's going on. Alright?" George informed the worried couple. "Are you nuts? You don't even know the guy," Jerry pointed out lowly. "Consider that?" Jessie questioned, intrigued. "So what?" George snapped. "I start talking to him you know, casual. Work my way around to it," George explained, his hand motions are rhythmic. "What if he's in an Iron Lung or something?" Jerry asked logically.
He's being a bit dramatic...Jessie thought as she watched the two best friends conversate.
"What're you gonna do?" Jerry continues, taking his arm off Jessie's shoulders and knocked on one of the metal tables so George would think twice but he isn't paying attention. "How ya feeling, Mr. Wilkinson? Cshhhh..." Jerry mimicked the noise of oxygen escaping a pretend Iron Lung. George involuntarily sees as it had caught his attention.
Jessie tried not to laugh- she enjoyed Jerry's dark humour too much. How could she not when he puts a lot of effort into it?
"By the way: what's happening with Sandrex?" Jerry glared at George dauntingly, earning an escaped giggle from Jessie as she observed this prediction. "Maybe he's there resting," George suggested sharply. "Who goes to a hospital to rest?" Jerry said, grabbing the upper hand. "What are you, a doctor?" George challenged sarcastically. Jessie shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Okay. Fine, fine," Jerry raised his arms, defeated.
Jessie ducked so she could avoid getting back hand slapped.
"When are you going down there?" Jerry interrogated demandingly. "Today," George responded as the person in front of them in line left the dry cleaners. "Okay, I'm going today," He added with finality to a certain degree. Jessie looked to George disbelievingly. "Just don't do anything until you hear from me," George patted his chest, indicating himself. "Alright," Jerry mumbled, walking up to the counter of the dry cleaners as two people entered. Jessie and George stayed by the wall, waiting.
"Boy, do I have to get to a bathroom," George announced, grumbling impatiently as he was suddenly face to face with an elderly woman. Jessie covered her mouth with a hand, refraining from giggling and all she could do was smirk. The woman stared at George, disgusted. Jessie played with the zipper of her leather jacket, amused. The woman and George were ensued in a staring competition. "You and him? For shame," she commented, loathsome as she observed how beautiful and unique Jessie seemed with the fringe of her hair dyed green.
"No ma'am, I'm dating that guy," Jessie divulged proudly, pointing with her other hand to the man standing before the counter. The older woman followed Jessie's finger and eyed Jerry sinisterly.
"Good choice." The woman admitted approvingly and scowled at George.
That was random but this is New York...Jessie trailed off, aboard her train of thoughts.
"May I help you?" The employer behind the counter asked kindly. "Yeah, I picked up this shirt here yesterday. Its completely shrunk," Jerry responded, showing the employee by holding the shirt higher by the hanger. "There's absolutely no way I can wear it!" Jerry said, greatly flustered. "When did you bring it in?" The employer asked smartly. "Whats the difference? Do you see the size of this shirt?" Jerry asked quizzically. "You got a receipt?" The man behind the counter raised. "I-I can't find the receipt," Jerry said, devastated with himself. He really can't. Jessie and Jerry searched their apartments top to bottom. The two didn't even go on their weekly date. Jerry considered that as a couply thing to do that day.
"You need to find the receipt," the cashier prompted. "Forget about the receipt. Alright, even if I had the receipt, look at it- its a hand puppet..." Jerry insisted, waving his other hand at it to make his point matter. "What am I gonna do with this?" Jerry inquired, dumbfounded.
Let Micky have the shirt...Jessie immediately thought of her unusually short friend. It would fit him... barely but it would be a generous offer.
"Yes, but how do I know we did this shirt?" The cashier countered. "Well, what do you think this is a little scam I have? I take this tiny shirt all over the city, conning dry cleaning businesses out of money?" Jerry reasoned, surprised. George and Jessie stand behind Jerry, witnessing the poor customer service unfolding. "In act, forget about the money! I just once would like for once a dry cleaner to admit that something was their fault. Thats what I want! I want an admission of guilt," Jerry rambled on with such intense attitude Jessie couldn't decipher how to describe it.
"Ooh, burn!" She shrieked, giving into her laughter that George induced earlier.
"Maybe you asked for it to be washed?" The cashier interjected hastily. "No. Dry. Cleaned," Jerry responded, glancing at his shoes as not to flip out. He gazed up at the cashier. "Let me explain to you something, okay? With certain types of fabrics the chemicals react, causing-" By this lecture, Jerry was leaning on the counter, beyond impatience.
"You shrunk it, you know you shrunk it. Just tell me you shrunk it!" Jerry requested forcefully. The cashier glanced ashamedly around Jerry and shadowy made eye-contact with him. "I shrunk it." He finally admitted with a touched expression.
A/N: I'll try to update this weekly. Its super fun to write! Hope ya'll are enjoying it.
