( open ) i come up hard baby, but now i'm cool

[missio]

CHARACTERS: marcus keane and anyone!
LOCATIONS: b-shop, the record store for cool kids who loves sick jamzzz
WARNINGS: none
SUMMARY: marcus gets a job at the record store. his previous employment involved screaming at demons and the creation of soft padded rooms, so his customer service skills could probably use some work.

[ one afternoon marcus wanders into the record shop in town for the seventh time in a week and accidentally walks out with a part-time gig after a heated debate about mod revival. he's become something of an odd fixture at b-sides over the past month, if only because for someone who's never done anything at low intensity he doesn't seem that committed to working. sweeping floors? please. reorganizing? sometimes, and with an incredible amount of bickering with other associates about genre sorting.

mostly, though, he can be found seated in a stool behind the counter with his feet up and a tall newspaper as ann sexton or james ray or marvin gaye blares too loud over the speakers. for a presumable salesperson he doesn't seem too worried about sales numbers. his face is almost never visible above the newspaper, although he's polite when someone tries to fetch his attention and good-humored with everyone who catches him in the middle of not giving a shit.

anyone who frequents the record shop might want to tell him to turn it down a little. or ask for recommendations. or try to make a purchase. or just say hi if you know him. some of the local teenagers have found that he's also terrifically easy to cajole with snacks, so he's also rarely seen without an open container of something that can be eaten with his hands. it's probably a good thing the shop owner is incredibly chill, because it doesn't look like he's gunning for employee of the month anytime soon. ]

Comments

[buenpastor]

[ over the months, tomas has grown used to music playing at home. it's almost like marcus can't do anything without background music. he's usually out all day, doing mostly volunteer work or helping at the local place of worship so he has no idea of what marcus does all day. he'd ask but honestly, marcus deserves time away.

as he's walking past the store, though, he recognizes the music so he steps inside. ]

Good afternoon?

[missio]

[ today it's ben e. king, more mainstream than his usual tastes but still a banger. the store isn't busy at this time of day, people keeping daytime hours at their own jobs, so marcus probably hasn't had to speak very much at all.

and he doesn't really intend to start, so when the bell over the door tinkles and someone issues a greeting that marcus doesn't hear too well over the incredibly loud music he just hums in response. the sound is barely audible over the speakers, except for the rough timbre. but on the other hand, upon closer inspection the hand on the newspaper may be familiar; the stick-and-poke tattoo at the wrist and the medallion even more so. ]

[buenpastor]

[ marcus has very distinctive hands even without the tattoo and bracelet. the whole scene is so very marcus he has trouble not laughing.

he steps up to the counter and taps on it just to see if marcus will deign lower his newspaper. ]

[missio]

[ in your dreams, pal. he's engrossed in an article about local farming practices. it would be nice to visit a farm, he thinks. roaming the countryside in america you pass plenty of private farms, but it's not as though people are obliged to be welcoming. ]

You looking for something in particular?

[ he's polite, but bored, and also rude, because that newspaper isn't going anywhere. ]

[buenpastor]

Yeah, I'm looking for the manager.

[ the music is loud but his accent is very distinctive so this could go either way. ]

[missio]

[ yeah, that voice marcus knows better than his own at this point. and it never fails to make a light bulb go on in his head when it sounds like tomas is in a good mood. the only sign that he's surprised at all is a slight shift of a fingertip on the edge of the paper. ]

She ain't in on weekends.

[ he flips to the next page. there's an audible smirk in his voice. ]

Can I take a message?

[buenpastor]

I'd like to file a complaint. I could hear the music from across the street.

[ marcus always looks like he belongs to a different time so it's weirdly amusing to see him in a place that, for the most part, matches him. ]

[missio]

[ there's another pause, and then marcus flips down the top half of his newspaper to look critically at tomas. his eyes are glittering in amusement, his smirk sharp and mean. ]

Did you consider going to a different street?

[buenpastor]

[ wow, that's terrible customer service. how did you even get hired?

it makes him laugh, though. ]

Also, the cranky old man at the counter is very rude.

[missio]

Well, they do say the customer is always right.

[ truthfully the shop is run by someone whose passion for some genres matches marcus' passion for other genres. it's not an elitist environment, but it does mean a mutual respect for connoisseurship that gives marcus just enough job security for him to be, well, himself. he might even call himself and the owner. ]

You're out and about early today. [ just a casual observation from someone who knows everything about tomas' schedule, no big deal. ]

[buenpastor]

I felt like going for a walk, seeing the bits of the city I haven't been to before.

[ like this store apparently. ]

Can you lower the volume a bit?

[missio]

[ he folds the newspaper in half and reaches down to turn down the volume obligingly. ]

Clearly you've been missing the best parts.

[ like a record store, wall-to-wall with vinyls, cassettes that marcus cycles through the retrofitted stereo. marcus has been here pretty much four times a week since he arrived. ]

In my Father's house there are many mansions. [ john 14:2. ] A place like this would certainly rank among them.

[buenpastor]

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. [ john 14:3. tomas didn't know the bible back and forth before he started traveling with marcus, but he sure as hell knows it now.

he looks at the walls, the shelves. ] It's somehow exactly where I'd have expected you to work.

[missio]

[ unlike christ in heaven for his disciples, marcus didn't prepare a place for tomas in the record store. it's not like he didn't want tomas to know, but also it didn't really feel like tomas' business, exactly. especially with it all so new. ]

Truthfully, I didn't expect to work anywhere.

[ he reaches up and scrubs the back of his neck. the newspaper, now settled on the countertop, has sketches on the sheets that marcus has already read. ]

But it passes the time well enough. And introducing people to Marvin Gaye is absolutely contributing to my [ hand quotes ] good deeds minimum.

[buenpastor]

Right, of course. This is community service, I see.

[ tomas knows more about music than he'd ever thought he'd know just from living with marcus. possibly, marcus' obscure music knowledge rivals his knowledge of scripture. ]

Have you told any kids to get off your lawn yet?

[missio]

[ he points at tomas with an accusatory hand. ] Watch it.

[ age jokes he'll take from the cool teens in this town, but not from you, buddy. i can still kick your ass!!11 ]

And no, not really. The other staff have been introducing me to contemporary work and I've been perfectly receptive. I might add they're doing a better job than you did when we was on the road. [ he found tomas' taste in radio stations to be mostly appalling. ]

[buenpastor]

Banda music is art, you're just too British.

[ banda music is terrible and it all sounds the same. ]

[missio]

It was shockingly rubbish.

[ he's very amused, though, a grin hiding in the corner of his mouth. he leans forward as he speaks, a forearm resting on the counter. ]

And I don't say that lightly about any music.

[buenpastor]

Next you'll say pop in Spanish is rubbish too.

[ tomas really likes despacito ]

[missio]

Not all of it is rubbish, but I know what example you're about to name and that one is absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent rubbish.

[ he is very entertained, though. also it feels good to joke around with tomas a bit. they slip into a good-humored rhythm more often lately, when they only have to worry about base survival here and the city takes care of most of their needs. ]

[buenpastor]

It got a grammy!

[ he's also very entertained. he's been having a very good time in the city, it's nice to have a life somewhat resembling normal even if it's temporary. ]

[missio]

Lots of rubbish has won a Grammy. That doesn’t place it in very select company.

[ you uncultured nerd.

marcus rests his chin on his hand and looks him over again. ]

You gonna be out and about all evening?

[buenpastor]

I was about to head home.

[ he's shuffling through the records looking up at him every so often, smiling. ]

I'm thinking I should buy something to torture you with.

[missio]

[ eyebrows up. ]

And what would I have done to deserve that, exactly.

[buenpastor]

It'd be educational. Plus it's only fair that we listen to music I like every so often.

[ he's looking for mariachi classics f t r ]

[missio]

It’s not as though you’ve been forbidden to put a record on at home.

[ ... it’s just that marcus will be a huge dick about it if he doesn’t like it. ]

[buenpastor]

Have you seen yourself when you don't like a record?

[ he's learned so much about music and he cares so little about it. ]