Aaron never liked working Sundays. It was far too quiet and meant that all
of Jean's finicky German attention was turned on him. Stand straight, why
are your shoes not polished, is that a tummy I am seeing...those collars my
dear! What are you doing? It went on and on and on.
Aaron decided to refold the two shirts that were on display on the stone shelves in the front of the shop. There was no ostentation, no shelves bulging vulgarly with overflowing merchandise. Two shirts, a suit jacket on a hanger and a pair of bespoke shoes could be seen from where Aaron stood, and the place could have been an art gallery for the reverent attention of concealed lighting that was lavished on the few items on display. After all, in the best bespoke tradition, one must ask at Dunett.
The cold, bare stone and aged wood interior of Dunett was an icon of exclusivity in Metropolis; unfortunately, it meant very lonely and difficulty stretches of boredom for its staff. Aaron stood at attention at his designated place, knowing that even though Jean looked like he was a taxidermist's dummy lost in the contemplation of the mysteries of the universe, he would immediately know if Aaron as much as shifted weight from one foot to the other. Therefore, Aaron waited and waited for the interminable day to end, so that he could go and chat up that wonderful Aussie waiter at Tim's... Jean interrupted his daydreams of all the varied charms of the waiter 'I am going to lunch. Keep alert and dzo not slouch!'
He was just contemplating the rival merits of Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp when his attention was drawn by a truly admirable behind, clad in jeans and sneakers, in one of the mirrored walls of the store that reflected the traffic on the quiet boulevard outside. He did not think Mr. Toned Behind would step in—jeans and sneakers seldom came into Dunetts, but perhaps this was his day, for the steps faltered and then came determinedly through the glass doors. He fully expected the intrepid young man to be intimidated by the suited elegance of Bruce standing in full majesty outside the double doors, but the door was smarty opened by an almost bowing Bruce, and the young man strode in. It was then that Aaron's breath hitched in his throat as he turned from looking at the reflection in the wall towards the real thing-- and took in Sexy Lexy in all his spendour.
He almost ran in his eagerness to serve the hottest billionaire on the planet (*he* did not belong to the Wayners, thank you very much), Oh! Jean would be sooo mad at missing Lex Luthor. Aaron never got a look in when Lex normally came in, what with Jean taking him to the private enclosure to be measured and spending *waay *to much time with him in the changing room, Aaron thought. But now Jean was not here and perhaps he would have a chance to measure Lex's inseam, hmm...
But it turned out Lex was looking for ready to wear, not bespoke, so Aaron ran to show him the new Prada stuff, after all there was still the chance of helping him with the jacket and smoothing it over his shoulders...
'Lana!'
'Oh! Hi Chloe! I thought we were meeting at three at the mall.'
'Fancy running into you here' said the perky blonde as she caught up with Lana.' Ooh! I see you've started the shopping already!' Chloe indicated the large bag that Lana carried.
'Oh! Just picking up something for a neighbour. You know, making friends at the new place. You must come sometime.'
Chloe looked in concern at Lana who seemed oddly restless, but she quickly carried on 'I am so glad that they finally unfroze my bank accounts. Lars Town was really getting me down. How have you been? What's up with Lois and the Lionel Luthor Interview?'
Chloe immediately launched into a tirade against conniving bitches who slept there way to exclusive interviews, and Lana smiled as she hailed a passing cab and bustled her wildly gesticulating companion into it.
Aaron was sulking. He had been so eager to recount his big encounter and successful sale story to Jean, and now all his pleasure had been ruined by the stupid, over made up, saggy old Hun. How was he to know that Lex's bespoke suits were ready for first fittings and that he was meant to buzz Jean every time a VVIP client came in? He'd only been working here two months! Now Jean was tightlipped and angry and would surely fire him come next month, and a suitable replacement misinformed and bullied into submission.
Because he knew his fate was decided, Aaron allowed himself a toss of the head-- *that * for the old German goat, wanting all the good customers to himself... Now he was calling Lex's office, no doubt to emphasize the incompetence of the staff that served him and ingratiating himself further into the graces of the Incomparable Lex. Aaron sighed—whatever may happen now, he had basked in the glory of the Lexian church.
But there was the prissy German mincing towards him from his office, no doubt to pass sentence.
'I dzo not know what you think you are doing, but dzo not ever assume things again. You see a bald man and you think he is the Lex Luthor?'
'B..But...' Aaron could only stutter.
'Would the Lex Luthor wear jeans? Would he carry cash like some cheap nouveau riche, tasteless yuppie?'
Deep breath, and really Jean was turning quite frightfully red. 'And he would never ever ever buy trousers with a fold up!'
Jean came and stood in Aaron's personal space, spectacles glinting maliciously up at him 'I just spoke to his office apologizing that he was not told about his fittings and would he kindly come again,' here he tapped Aaron on the chest with an accusing finger. 'I was told that yes, Mr. Luthor had it scheduled to visit us next Wednesday, but that he was in meetings all day today at his office, and had certainly not visited us. You made me look a fool!'
Jean turned away and moved one shoe on display on an artfully broken Doric column, one millimeter to the right.
'Really, you should stick to folding shirts. Now, dzo not slouch, and stop that thing you are doing with your mouth. It makes you very ugly.'
Aaron decided to refold the two shirts that were on display on the stone shelves in the front of the shop. There was no ostentation, no shelves bulging vulgarly with overflowing merchandise. Two shirts, a suit jacket on a hanger and a pair of bespoke shoes could be seen from where Aaron stood, and the place could have been an art gallery for the reverent attention of concealed lighting that was lavished on the few items on display. After all, in the best bespoke tradition, one must ask at Dunett.
The cold, bare stone and aged wood interior of Dunett was an icon of exclusivity in Metropolis; unfortunately, it meant very lonely and difficulty stretches of boredom for its staff. Aaron stood at attention at his designated place, knowing that even though Jean looked like he was a taxidermist's dummy lost in the contemplation of the mysteries of the universe, he would immediately know if Aaron as much as shifted weight from one foot to the other. Therefore, Aaron waited and waited for the interminable day to end, so that he could go and chat up that wonderful Aussie waiter at Tim's... Jean interrupted his daydreams of all the varied charms of the waiter 'I am going to lunch. Keep alert and dzo not slouch!'
He was just contemplating the rival merits of Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp when his attention was drawn by a truly admirable behind, clad in jeans and sneakers, in one of the mirrored walls of the store that reflected the traffic on the quiet boulevard outside. He did not think Mr. Toned Behind would step in—jeans and sneakers seldom came into Dunetts, but perhaps this was his day, for the steps faltered and then came determinedly through the glass doors. He fully expected the intrepid young man to be intimidated by the suited elegance of Bruce standing in full majesty outside the double doors, but the door was smarty opened by an almost bowing Bruce, and the young man strode in. It was then that Aaron's breath hitched in his throat as he turned from looking at the reflection in the wall towards the real thing-- and took in Sexy Lexy in all his spendour.
He almost ran in his eagerness to serve the hottest billionaire on the planet (*he* did not belong to the Wayners, thank you very much), Oh! Jean would be sooo mad at missing Lex Luthor. Aaron never got a look in when Lex normally came in, what with Jean taking him to the private enclosure to be measured and spending *waay *to much time with him in the changing room, Aaron thought. But now Jean was not here and perhaps he would have a chance to measure Lex's inseam, hmm...
But it turned out Lex was looking for ready to wear, not bespoke, so Aaron ran to show him the new Prada stuff, after all there was still the chance of helping him with the jacket and smoothing it over his shoulders...
'Lana!'
'Oh! Hi Chloe! I thought we were meeting at three at the mall.'
'Fancy running into you here' said the perky blonde as she caught up with Lana.' Ooh! I see you've started the shopping already!' Chloe indicated the large bag that Lana carried.
'Oh! Just picking up something for a neighbour. You know, making friends at the new place. You must come sometime.'
Chloe looked in concern at Lana who seemed oddly restless, but she quickly carried on 'I am so glad that they finally unfroze my bank accounts. Lars Town was really getting me down. How have you been? What's up with Lois and the Lionel Luthor Interview?'
Chloe immediately launched into a tirade against conniving bitches who slept there way to exclusive interviews, and Lana smiled as she hailed a passing cab and bustled her wildly gesticulating companion into it.
Aaron was sulking. He had been so eager to recount his big encounter and successful sale story to Jean, and now all his pleasure had been ruined by the stupid, over made up, saggy old Hun. How was he to know that Lex's bespoke suits were ready for first fittings and that he was meant to buzz Jean every time a VVIP client came in? He'd only been working here two months! Now Jean was tightlipped and angry and would surely fire him come next month, and a suitable replacement misinformed and bullied into submission.
Because he knew his fate was decided, Aaron allowed himself a toss of the head-- *that * for the old German goat, wanting all the good customers to himself... Now he was calling Lex's office, no doubt to emphasize the incompetence of the staff that served him and ingratiating himself further into the graces of the Incomparable Lex. Aaron sighed—whatever may happen now, he had basked in the glory of the Lexian church.
But there was the prissy German mincing towards him from his office, no doubt to pass sentence.
'I dzo not know what you think you are doing, but dzo not ever assume things again. You see a bald man and you think he is the Lex Luthor?'
'B..But...' Aaron could only stutter.
'Would the Lex Luthor wear jeans? Would he carry cash like some cheap nouveau riche, tasteless yuppie?'
Deep breath, and really Jean was turning quite frightfully red. 'And he would never ever ever buy trousers with a fold up!'
Jean came and stood in Aaron's personal space, spectacles glinting maliciously up at him 'I just spoke to his office apologizing that he was not told about his fittings and would he kindly come again,' here he tapped Aaron on the chest with an accusing finger. 'I was told that yes, Mr. Luthor had it scheduled to visit us next Wednesday, but that he was in meetings all day today at his office, and had certainly not visited us. You made me look a fool!'
Jean turned away and moved one shoe on display on an artfully broken Doric column, one millimeter to the right.
'Really, you should stick to folding shirts. Now, dzo not slouch, and stop that thing you are doing with your mouth. It makes you very ugly.'