"Bill? Bill? BILL!"
"Hrm?" Bill focused a bleary eyed look on Vernita's darkly pretty but intense features. Hovering behind her was Elle; all cheekbones and pouty lips. Elle had yet to say a word to Bill since early the day before when she'd stomped out of the house. At the moment, Bill didn't really give a shit.
"You called us?" Vernita prompted, trying to not get too frustrated with her suddenly pathetic and forlorn boss. She might even of felt bad for him, if his misery hadn't been over Beatrix. She'd never seen Bill so unshaven and disheveled.
"Yes," Bill replied quickly.
"Bill? What's with the Derringer?" Vernita changed the subject.
"Hrm? Oh...," he glanced down at the rather large pistol that was sitting on the bar, under his palm. "….had it...around..."
Vernita raised a brow at that pathetic explanation. Of course Bill had it 'around'; he had guns around like Elle had jealousy. She pursed her lips, realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere with Bill at the moment.
"Where's Budd?" Bill inquired; spinning the gun around lazily on the bar, like it was some harmless bottle top.
"Well, not here yet...obviously," Vernita grumbled under her breath; dark yes on the gun. "He called me earlier, said he as coming over."
"Good," Bill replied shortly. "And O-Ren?"
Vernita glared. When the fuck did Bill ever have to ask where people were? She had sworn in the past that he possessed some sort of tracking device sixth sense...but, apparently that had gone out with his common sense and self respect.
"She's on her way here too..." she sighed, glancing at Elle. Elle continued to look at Bill, her expression quite impossible to read.
"That gun's not loaded is it Bill?" Vernita asked after a moment; doing her best to keep any sort of nervousness out of her voice. There was an edginess about Bill, in his whole appearance, that made her even warier than normal.
Bill didn't reply for a few seconds as he continued to look down at the lazily spinning gun. Then, with expert ease, he snatched it off the bar, flipped it around, spun it so the barrel was an inch from Vernita's forehead, cocked the hammer back and pulled the trigger. It took about a second and a half.
There was a resounding hollow click.
"Of course it's not loaded," he said softly; gun still frozen in place.
Vernita had flinched back unconsciously. "JESUS BILL!" Her lip twisted. Ok, that was not amusing...not at all. That crossed some line somewhere...she knew she had to get out of this fucking business, and shit like that only further proved it.
But, apparently Elle found it amusing. She started laughing. And for the first time, in well over a week, a wicked grin spread across Bill's face.
"Not funny Bill!" Vernita hissed, glaring at Elle, "You too Elle...goddamnit...both of you..." she marched over to the couch, "….fucking crazy..." Which was funny coming from Vernita.
Elle sat herself down on the stool next to Bill; still laughing and apparently forgiving him in that moment. Bill's grin had died, but a half hearted smirk still remained in its place.
It didn't take long for O-Ren and Budd to show up. Actually they arrived at the same time and had spent five minutes out in the driveway 'talking'. They spoke about the man, Bill of course. They were both equally concerned over him and wanted to share their views on the situation. They had different opinions on exactly why Bill was as he was considering the person that had caused this, but even so they both had the main concern of a top priority, which was Bill. Budd had hopes that this meeting would bring more good news than bad and perhaps even brighten Bill up; if that were possible.
So, the two strolled in together. Upon entrance O-Ren with her calm and placid façade wandered over to join Vernita on the couch. She looked a tad shaken up and aggravated. But O-Ren wasn't one to question, and instead crossed a leg over the other and folded hands in her lap.
Budd took the rocking chair which was his usual spot. His softer set brown eyes shifted from Bill, who still looked like hell except he was a smirking; a good sign, and then he altered his gaze to the firearm he was holding. That could be considered as good or bad. Either Bill had it out for the hell of having it out, or he was going to use it. If Bill hadn't been acting so goddamn depressed Budd would most likely guess the gun was out for the sake of being out. It was typical Bill, but Bill had not been acting typical lately. Budd's brows furrowed noticeably.
"Alright," his younger sibling began smoothly. "Why'd we all have ta meet like this? I know you don't like sticking the five…" he fumbled. "Four, a'us together that often." Leave it to Budd to fuck up. O-Ren shot him a nasty glare and scowl. They had agreed to try and not bring up that 'fifth' person, as it only seemed to make things worse when it came to being around Bill.
Vernita cringed, "Goddamnit Budd," she muttered under her breath; dark eyes boring into him.
Elle seemed to suddenly be in a very 'happy' mood, which was extremely annoying coming from her. Obviously, she was happy because Beatrix was dead, but it seemed she had also conjured up some imaginary idea that Bill was in fact completely over Beatrix.
That was a completely false assumption. Bill was far from 'over' Beatrix, in fact...he would never actually be fully over Beatrix; no matter what happened...loving somebody so much did that to a person, murdering bastard or not. Elle had no idea exactly what had transpired between Bill and Beatrix and she was easy to shrug it off as some sort of torrid lusty wisp of an affair between the two, nothing more.
Bill on the other hand, was now missing a part of his soul that he would never be able to get back. Anybody who'd had their heart broken knew this feeling, and they also knew that crawling out of that dark pit was not an easy or quickly occurring task. In time, people were able to move on, never quite the same...but most moved on. Yet, Bill was far, far from that point right now and a typical sadistic little stunt and smirk from him was no major breakthrough...even if Elle thought it was.
The willowy blonde sauntered over to the living room where the others were sitting, with a little sway to her hips and an upturned smirk on her lips. She sat in her usual overstuffed chair for one.
Bill remained at the bar for a few more moments, examining the unloaded Derringer like a child's toy. He'd heard Budd's little slip up quite clearly...he'd been sober for nearly twelve hours after all. He had no intention of staying that way all that much longer, but for the moment he was very aware of his surroundings. He pursed his lips, not saying anything.
Finally, he set the gun down on the counter and trudged into the living room. Before he even sat down, he got down to business...he knew if he didn't get to the point he was going to get barraged with stupid personal questions. He didn't need any pity or concern.
"As is normal practice when we lose a member," his voice was emotionless, but it was a well practiced sociopath's shield, "...it is best that member be replaced within the next few weeks." He sat down, by himself on the small two person couch, "Due to...events of this week, there is a good amount of assignments piled up. I'm still working on catching up with these, but I have no doubt that things are going to be pretty hectic until a fifth member can be added." He leaned back, still appearing completely unreadable, "I expect all of you to deal."
Vernita did her best to hide a scowl; her major thought being 'Yeah, because you've dealt so well Bill.' But, she wisely said nothing. She'd already had a gun put to her forehead once today.
"So...who's the new girl gunna be?" Elle piped up happily.
Bill's edgy gaze shifted to her. "I don't know...Miss Driver," he said slowly and deliberately. "I have some prospects, but don't expect anything for at least three weeks. These things take time." 'What things' he was a little unclear on...but that was certainly up for questioning. "In the meantime...we'll manage. I'll take up a few assignments myself if I have to."
Vernita's lip twisted. She pitied the poor asshole's that were the targets of those assignments.
"And who's to say it's going to be a woman?" Bill added after a moment with a gloomy frown.
"Oh, it'll be a woman," Elle snorted, "And a good looking one at that. You're so predicable with certain things Bill."
"Don't push me Elle," he snapped back, "Not right now."
"Ok..." She replied, not looking all that phased.
Budd had been sitting on his rocker rocking quietly for some time. His lips were puckered up, which usually meant he was going through a major thought process. To conclude this process he licked his lips, slouched forward, and bent arms on his thighs; a casual manly posture. "I don't think it's a good idea," he started slowly; brown eyes easing around the room. "Bringing in a fifth member and all so soon. It's only been a week…we can double up on the assi…"
He was abruptly caught off by O-Ren, "I think it's a lovely idea."
Budd shot his eyes on the half breed. He was only against the idea for the sake of Bill and his present 'fragile' state. "I don't think it is," he reaffirmed with a scowl.
"Well, I think it is and," O-Ren narrowed her own set of softer brown eyes on him, sparking. "When have we ever cared what you think, Budd?"
Budd clenched his jaw and a low growl stuck in the back of his throat. His hands now clenched to the sides of the rocker. His mouth moved and twisted as if he wanted to say something else but for once he went against his better judgment and fell back against the chair. "Fine," he muttered. "But I think it should be a guy. There are too many fucking bitches in this organization."
"Budd, Jesus Christ! What did I tell you...," Bill snapped, a furious glare on his brother, "...have been telling you for fucking...twenty years, I fucking hate it when you call my employee's bitches!"
Vernita barely...barely stopped a : "Even if it is true," from coming out of her mouth. Instead, she just raised her eyebrows and continued to stay safely silent.
Bill leaned back, looking tired...which was something of an understatement at the moment, "I realize...it's still early...but...these are things that must be thought about . I don't..." he paused, "...I don't...like the idea of...replacement much myself either. But...," another difficult pause, "...it's necessary."
"Well...what about the whole moving thing?" Vernita asked suddenly.
"That's on temporary hold," Bill replied darkly.
"What?" Elle's eye flashed, "We're not moving now? Well, fucking great, I've already given my notice to my apart-"
"Elle!" Bill cut her off with a hiss, "What did I just say? Temporary hold...where in there do you get 'not moving'?"
"Ok…not moving...for awhile..." she mumbled, her steam gone.
"Yes, well..." Bill changed gears, "There are more important things to deal with before I can get back to that whole thing."
Again, Vernita had to stop herself, this time a : "Yeah, like pulling your head out of your ass.." being her nearly spoken phrase.
Bill waved a hand, "No matter...it will only be delayed a month…..tops..."
"And this new replacement?" Vernita prompted; safer words perhaps.
"I have prospects," Bill replied vaguely, "Of both the male..." he glared at Budd, "..and female variety. But, you are all correct...it is too soon for that...although, it will be happening."
"Well, I'm glad," Vernita crossed her arms, "I think it's a great idea."
Elle mouthed a silent 'ass kisser' in her direction, which coming from Elle was so ridiculous it wasn't even really funny. "Yeah, it's alright...I suppose..." she mumbled after a moment.
Budd didn't give a damn if the move was put on hold. He had his shit ready, and whenever they needed to move he would go; not necessarily willing though. He began a methodic rock in his rocking chair. "It's too soon," he muttered to himself. He was really set on that idea only for Bill's own good rather than his own. He folded his arms over his chest gruffly.
O-Ren cast him a side long glance of disgust. "Get over it Budd," she stated bluntly with an up-tilt of her raven locks and folded arms over her chest in a much more dainty manner. She added in a soft tone, "Besides, even if there were someone here who acknowledged your opinion, and I may add she's not…it's not as if she measured up to anything."
Everyone stared at the half breed agog. "And you're telling me to shut the fuck up," Budd stated as he had leaned forward in the rocking chair. The room was completely silent for a few long...long seconds.
Elle's expression read pure 'oh shit' as she stared agape at O-Ren. Vernita's was rather similar and she placed a hand on the arm of her couch, just in case she had to get up quickly.
Bill had leveled that trademark glare at O-Ren, which...was scary enough when he got enough sleep, ate enough, was sober enough and shaved enough. Now...it was, completely frightening. Bill had always had one hell of a temper, he'd learned to curb it over the years...but under stress and agony, it was a thin line between cool and calm and utterly irate. O-Ren's words had touched a very, very raw nerve.
He snarled in Japanese; nostrils flared. Japanese often sounded guttural and angry even when one wasn't angry. It was an untranslatable swear word, but one could take a general guess. "You have some nerve," Bill hissed in English, completely locked on the half-breed, "She was worth a hundred of you O-Ren...I know it...and deep down you know it..." He stood. Bill was tall-ish, not exceptionally so though...but when he was angry, he might as well have been eight feet tall. He just looked dangerous.
Vernita pressed herself back into her chair. Budd shifted in the rocker.
Bill advanced on O-Ren, "You're a foolish girl O-Ren." Strange, he referred to her as a girl. "You've always been and you always will be...despite...how I see you now, you started out just as low as her," his eyes flashed, "...you're no better...and don't ever fucking question that," he halted in front of her, "...nor her...again...because...I swear, if I hear you say...even the slightest of whispers..," he bent down. Bill often used this close proximity intimidation tactics, "...from you…..along the lines of that bullshit that just came out of your mouth..." he rose a hand, placing it firmly on one of O-Ren's smooth freckled cheeks, "...I'll fucking break you. And don't think I can't or I won't...and I'll enjoy every goddamn fucking second of it." A twisted smirk spread across his face, "And then, O-Ren Ishii...you can meet those parents of yours that you've been missing oh so much...all these years..."
Elle was staring with the utmost sadistic fascination; her jaw slightly unhinged.
Bill knew, among other things, that being reprimanded in front of her fellow assassins was something O-Ren despised. He was hitting on a number of points here.
Taking his hand off O-Ren, he stood up; he spoke to her in Japanese again, which basically translated to. "Get out."
O-Ren like Bill had a temper. A very bad temper but she preferred to keep her calm exterior over any type of overreaction. She sure as hell could overreact and it was pretty fucking scary. She learned from the best. Thus, Bill's intimidation tactics didn't work as well as if he were using them on someone with less of a cold outer shell. The turn in her red painted lips showed what he said penetrated somewhere, but she wouldn't outwardly show it.
Instead she took his demand and rose quickly to her feet without any given hesitation. She wasn't going to run out in tears from being shot down and embarrassed like that. She took it in stride. Those burning brown eyes didn't spare a glance to Bill; the man she thought to be a father figure, and turned on her heel to saunter down the hallway. She opened the front door, but hesitated and called over her shoulder in a fluent Japanese tongue, "I may be a foolish girl, Bill…but at least I am not a foolish…old…man who is…was….in love with a very foolish woman." And with that she slammed the door to her dramatic exit.
Those left sat in a chilly and eerie silence. Budd would have made some type of lame assed remark to that but he didn't. Instead he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. That hadn't gone down well and he 'almost' felt bad for O-Ren, but not by much.
Bill followed O-Ren out and yelled at the closed door that she had just slammed shut; his words angry, in Japanese and of the extremely nasty sort. Maybe even O-Ren had been somewhat right with those parting words, but Bill couldn't see much past his own anger at the moment.
He stormed back into the living room. Elle stood up with a frown and approached him with an attempt at comforting words, "Bill...I don't-" she began, but he simply pushed her away with an angry shove. Elle didn't take too kindly to that, and she glared at him; completely forgetting about attempting to be nice.
"This meeting is over," Bill growled, heading for the bar, "I have nothing else to say...enough has been said for today as it stands." He went behind the bar, searching through his large stores of bottles.
Vernita stood with a frown on her dark features. She glanced at Elle and Budd, her eyes then flicking to Bill's back as he searched for a clean glass. "Yeah...I'm leaving," she finally mumbled and followed O-Ren's path out of the house in a far more morose fashion.
Budd was still sitting in his rocker in a flabbergasted daze. Perhaps he was trying to figure out what had just transpired or he was debating what to do next. Most likely it was both. He unsteadily rose from his seat. His brown eyes gave a fleeting glance to Elle. His steps brought him over to the bar where Bill was hastily preparing himself a drink. Brows furrowed in obvious concern and lacking of words. "Bill…" he began slowly but his older brother wasn't giving him as much as an acknowledgement. This was expected and he continued, "Just…uh…don't do anything stupid." That wasn't what he wanted to say, but he didn't want to get shot…or worse. He turned away and took a few steps over to the willowy blonde. His façade was forlorn. "Come on, it's better to let him cool down."
Bill ignored his brother's words for the moment longer, loudly setting down a bottle of Jack and a bottle of high priced tequila on the countertop; on either side of the Derringer that he'd left there before. That alone was a rather scary tableau.
"Hrm, yes Budd," Bill spoke up, with dark sarcasm, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind...thank you for your utmost concern."
Elle was scowling at Bill. She had thought, for just a brief moment back there, that he was through with this sort of shit...that he'd, well….gotten over it. But, like with many things, she was wrong. Elle underestimated Bill, she underestimated the whole situation. She had a sudden sparking thought...if she had known before that Beatrix had dug her claws in this deep with Bill, she would have seriously killed the bitch. She'd certainly had a number of opportunities to. It made Elle almost want Beatrix to actually be alive...so she could be the one to kill her and make her suffer to her last breath.
Budd's arm on her shoulder snapped Elle out of her rage. "Yeah...ok...," she mumbled absent mindedly; eye still focused on Bill, who was now filling up a shot glass full of the tequila.
Elle didn't want to see anymore, and she and Budd headed for the doorway.
"Oh, and one last thing..." Bill called from behind them.
They both turned, hoping...just maybe there would be a spark of sense left in him.
He flashed a truly sadistic but blatantly miserable grin, "Cheers," and he knocked back the shot glass.
"Augh," Elle turned away disgusted. This time she grabbed Budd by the arm and nearly dragged him out of the house and out of the presence of Bill.
Beatrix spent the following day in bed. She hadn't planned it that way. She had had every intention of getting up that morning and going to…apologize…to Tommy for the night before. But when she woke up that morning she threw up, followed by a splitting head ache, and another three hours of sleep. When she awoke she felt considerably worse and only got out of bed to make herself a cup of tea with buttered toast. She brought this over to her bed and got back in. She didn't come back out.
She spent those hours in bed staring off into space. She didn't bother to put the television on or even low key music. She just laid there. She wasn't sure at times what she was thinking about, and half the time what she was thinking about only brought back emotional turmoil.
When the sun was beginning to dip over the horizon she was over come with a burning feeling of loneliness. Perhaps she had felt it all day, but the stomach acid hadn't kicked in until later that afternoon. It took her a good hour to come to the conclusion that she was indeed not lonely, or alone for that matter. Her hands were folded gingerly atop her stomach and heaved up and down with each shallow breath.
She wasn't alone, she had her baby. The baby filled that lonely hole and it also made up for, in a way, the person she was missing and was the reason for the feeling of loneliness to begin with. Bill. The baby was half Bill's, it had half his genes; as frightening a thought as that was. He was still with her in some eerie kind of way. Beatrix wasn't a hundred percent sure how she felt about that. She didn't think much more about it, considering thinking about Bill made her sick and not just in the physical sense.
Finally, she was able to fall into an uneasy slumber and awoke the next morning much more refreshed. She had a long shower, got dressed, and made herself another breakfast of butter toast. By mid-afternoon she was standing outside that now familiar and inviting used record store. She had been standing on the corner of the store for the past ten minutes switching herself from one track to the other.
Confident enough, she held that pretty head of blonde locks up high and sauntered inside. The record store was considerably empty for a Sunday afternoon which she was very thankful for. Blue eyes spotted Tommy by the register immersed in a good portion of paperwork. Putting on a placid demeanor she strolled over, came up to the counter, and stopped. "Hello."
Tommy quickly looked up, "Arlene, oh my god...," he instantly dropped whatever he was working on and took a few long steps around the corner to encircle her in a warm embrace.
"I was going to call you," he murmured, "But...I realized you never gave me your phone number, and...I felt weird dropping by your place."
Over the last day or so, Tommy had been thinking a lot about Arlene...and not all of the time in an infatuated way. He was a little confused about what happened the other night. And, he realized, that while...he felt like he had known Arlene longer than three days...he somehow felt that he didn't' know her as he thought he had. He had to chide himself on his often far too eager way of getting to know people. All of this had happened so fast. It wasn't that he didn't want to still be with her...he just wanted to make sure everything was clear.
He pulled away from the tall blonde, holding her out at arm's length, "Are you ok?" His bright blue eyes searched her face; "You look good..." he smiled. "The three banshees...er, Joleen, Janeen and Erica all called me...asking how you were. We were all worried." He sobered up a little, still looking intently at her, "We should talk...," but he quickly smiled, "…..whenever you feel like you want to of course."
Well, that was a welcome she had not been expecting, but she more than warmly accepted it. The fact that Tommy as well as the three women she had just met were so worried about her was surprisingly good to know. Not that they were worried but that they cared. Tommy especially seemed to care and staring into his bright blue eyes only reassured that.
Beatrix came into the record store knowing that he would want to talk, because she wanted to talk. It just came down to saying the right things even if they were completely out of character for Bea. She licked her pink shaded lips in a nervous gesture but kept her eyes locked on his. "I came here to apologize for the other night," she began slowly and confidently. There came in the out of character part, as Beatrix Kiddo never, ever apologized for anything. That didn't go to say that she didn't do things that were wrong; her whole past profession was immoral to 99 of the world. But in her eyes apologizing was showing weakness. One could explain oneself, but apologizing was uncommon. This was a blood stain on her clean slate that she was unable to wash off.
"I don't know what came over me…I think it could be stress from loosing my other job and picking up a new life here. And I hadn't really settled down with anything. It all piled up and I let it out in a way I shouldn't have." She pursed her lips a moment. "It wasn't my intention to…overreact…like that in front of you, and for that I am sorry."
Tommy listened to Arlene with a gentle look on his face. When she finished, he hugged her again, "Hey," he smiled down at her, "...it's alright...but it's good to hear that from you. I was worried maybe...something was wrong. I've never seen anybody do anything quite like that before." Like nearly kill somebody. "I just...wanted to make sure that everything was ok...with you...and everything." He seemed less concerned about getting an apology and more with a simple reassurance of her well being.
He sat down on the edge of the counter, one of Arlene's hands still clasped between his larger two. "We should also talk..." he dropped his voice a little...more out of habit than anything. There wasn't a customer to be seen. "...about us...about what happened between us...the other night." He let one of his hands let go of hers, and scratched the back of his neck uneasily, "I'm a honest guy Arlene, and I'll be perfectly honest with you...I really like you, I think your great...," he smiled a little slyly, "….even if you almost killed a man." He grew serious again, "But...I've just met you...and all of this is a little overwhelming." He paused, obviously frustrated with his own words, "I guess...what I really want to say is...," his voice dropped a little lower, "...I don't like to fuck around...ya know with women and stuff. I'm a one gal kinda guy...and...and if that's the kind of gal you are...then I want to be with you...but if you're not...just tell me now, and we are just friends...because I don't want either us getting in over our heads or getting hurt or anything...I just don't want that."
Tommy was not all that eloquent with words; he wasn't a smooth talker or a man who'd been with a great deal of women, but he possessed a refreshing "common man's" amount of wisdom when it came to certain things, a solid sense of morality and a clear idea of what he wanted.
He sat back, waiting for Arlene's reply with a crinkled brow.
Beatrix watched him with her remaining placid façade, but the arch in her brow showed the slightest bit of uncertainty. Here she was…again, getting in over her head whether she wanted too or not. Tommy didn't think he was, but later he'd be gasping for air. Again, it wasn't her first intention, but as things had come into play it worked out that way, and she was hoping for the better this time around.
Blue eyes shifted around the record store, noting the only customer present was an elderly man busying himself over a rack of classic 60's records, obviously not giving a damn about anyone else's presence. Those bright blue eyes came back to Tommy and she replied in a hushed earnest tone, "I'm not a slut." She wanted to get that point across straight off. "And I don't sleep around or use nice guys like you. I may have a…temper but I'm as genuine as they come." Another convincing lie and she shifted from one foot to the other a moment. "I like you a lot too." A warm smile curved over her lips.
Her slender hand was still encased in his own, and long white fingers idly stroked against the top of his hand. "You're a real great guy and I think 'we' could work."
Tommy smiled, a genuine smile….with a good amount of relief mixed in. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Arlene hadn't said what she'd just said. He was liking her a little too much to just walk away. "Oh Arlene, I never thought you were a slut," he said softly; squeezing her hand, his smile widening...still sweet.
"I'm so glad you feel that way..." he continued softly, "I really am." He squeezed her hand again, and leaned forward to give her a quick somewhat more polite kiss than he might have had they not been sitting in his store.
So...it was official then. And Tommy couldn't agree more...there was something about the two of them that told him that it could work. He slid off the counter, still beaming at the tall blonde.
"Now," he spoke a little louder, "...how about getting you a job? I need some help around the store...I can't pay you much more than minimum wage...probably only about thirty hours a week. But, it's definitely the coolest job in El Paso," he chuckled a little. "You might have to do some music crash course learning...but I can help you with that I assure you, and plus," he his tone become more personal, "...I'd really like to be able to see you every day." He stuck out his hand as if to make a deal, "What do ya say?"
Beatrix took his hand in a manner one wouldn't expect from a slender blonde; she gave him a firm hand shake. "I'd say you've got yourself a new employee," she stated with a smile so wide it exposed that set of pearly whites. That had been very easy. In time she was going to look into getting a job, but it would have been tricky with her lack of a resume and resources and contacts to her last job. But, then again she never had to look for a job per se. Bill found her and offered her the job. She found Tommy and Tommy offered her the job. She couldn't have planned it more perfectly. She was going to work in the store with Tommy and in a music store no less.
She let her hand fall back to her side, her head canted to the side, blue eyes sparkling. "I'll have you know I am music literate but…" a brief pause was taken. "I'm a little rusty seeing as my Pa bought me up on the oldies more so than the modern age."
Tommy laughed, putting an arm around Arlene's shoulders as he led her into the aisles of records, "No problem, we'll start with…..post disco era adult contemporary and move onto early hip hop and new wave..." It was already obvious Arlene was going to get an earful of music, if she really wanted to or not. And thus, she began her employment as record store saleswoman.