Oil - Chapter IX - Nine

[glassesg33k]

Posted: Sun. May 18^th, 2014 Author: GlassesG33k

Chapter Rating: PG-13
Word Count:7,050
Cross-posted: http://glassesg33k.livejournal.com/http://glassesg33k.dreamwidth.org/

Special Thanks: TT, or TactlessTruth for all of her help. :-)

 

 

A/N: Warning you may get hungry reading this!

By the way (BTW) I've made all the food stuff here, just as stated and it really tastes GOOD, I suggest trying it. Ask me for my recipes if you want ;D!

 

Omg! Some of my chapters now have titles in them! Wow! ;D!

 

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Chapter 9

Degrees of Discrimination

 

 

IX Nine IX

 

“Alright alright alright,” Ford hung up he was over scheduled already. The day had not started well, he'd gotten up late and by the time he'd gotten to work for his first order it was already 5:30 a.m.

Kinsey the main co-worker Ford dealt with and the person who doled out his orders for him to deliver had screwed up, or that's what he'd thought. Entering the Farmacy there had been three orders on the counter, usually he'd have five to deliver for the whole day. He had one client for his morning run before his classes started, or that was before the whole local news thing had aired.

When Ford had come into the shop he found that it was well liked, the whole place being packed, customers getting their daily rations before work. He hadn't been in early since his last run which was a good week ago so he was surprised to find that it was so full this early in the day. At the moment though he was in too much of a hurry to care, he needed to get his one pre-dawn order before heading out. When he'd found the three deliveries waiting for him he'd gone in search of Kinsey; that was when he learned that the shop, being under such strain, had hired quite a number of new people, one of them being his new “dole-girl” as the title was named. She was the one in charge of doling out his “run” or “outside” orders he had to deliver. Ford had argued with her and found out that ever since the whole Late Night News with the local anchor had aired all Friendly shops had become so over run that they were having to send clients to competitors.

The new girl had also warned him that he was well known now and had supposedly become somewhat of a “celebrity”.

Either way, instead of having the one, hour long drive to the old man's house he was now stocked with two other orders that would take a good thirty to forty-five minutes a piece just to get it out to the waiting customers.

By the time Ford got back to the shop to check in before he headed out to his classes he was shoved one last order and it was also a half hour long drive. He nearly shrugged off his classes for the day but managed to get in to the beginning of his second class at the last minute.

By four o'clock when he was finally heading back to the Farmacy after a long day in school he was wiped out and just wanted to crash for the evening.

The day had not gone well and being recognized by a few of his clients and a couple of kids at school didn't help his mood any. It was nice but weird to have total strangers point and call out to you, a few even ran up smelling of pot, wanting an autograph. Far worse was the numerous people who walked up talking and using his name as if they knew him well and were old friends.

*shudder!*

That one really creeped him out.

Then there were the ones who thought that merely through talking to him they could get some kid of a “good deal” on god knows what. He tried to dissuade them, let them know that he was no one special and he couldn't help them, or didn't know them at all; it didn't seem to make a difference though, they all wanted something from him.

He'd also gotten plenty of new hate and slurs thrown at him, now with the added benefit of “pot head” or “druggie” thrown in.

The only upswing that day had been his new GoogleGlass equipment. He had signed up hopeful and had thankfully been chosen to be a first line BETA tester. Ford liked new technology and was always trying to get his hands on the most cutting edge items being released to the public. Before he decided to go into law he had been studying to go into the field of computer programming and animatronics/robotics. He'd only managed to get a double bachelors in that though. It was because of this and his love for technology that his older clients had nick named him “gadget guy”. To Ford though all the new technology and knowledge was just normal everyday life. Yes it made certain things far easier but overall it was just the way the world worked.

It was kinda fun to try out the new “toys” and see if they were worthwhile; work out the kinks before anyone else dealt with them. This helped when his friends would complain about some item not working or were having a hard time assimilating the new technology. Ford could let them know how to deal with certain issues and what the new stuff was capable and not capable of. He could let them know how things were set up and functioned with the new equipment since he'd already had to deal with it or fix or figure out whatever problem it was.

When it came to the older generations, usually the clients that he served, they would be lonely and would always be wanting to talk, and since Ford was a bit shy it was a good place to start a conversation, everyone wanting to know about the stuff he had on him. The older people were always curious about what new phone he had or what “new finagled kind of techno-thingy” he was sporting. He'd usually come in and hang out for a few minutes giving them updates on his life or on what he was messing with or had discovered. He'd even had fairly long talks introducing his clients to all the “neat new things” and how to use the equipment.

When signing up to test GoogleGlass he let the company know this and told them that many of his customers, after talking to him, would eventually end up buying many of the new items he had shown off. He'd even introduced old Mr. Phil, his ancient 6 a.m. client he delivered to before the work day started, to many new things. It was a shock when one morning the old guy had excitedly ushered Ford into his house and shown him his new Apple I-Pad. They'd talked for a good hour then and Ford had shown him all kinds of things the item could do, mostly all basic stuff. He'd helped the poor old guy out on necessary items even telling him about how to connect to something “new and extraordinary called the internet”, Ford had to really work to suppress his chuckling smile on that one. He was taken aback when the old guy told him that he was having a business come over later on that week to install “a new in-teerr-net or ... whatever,” the old guy had waved his hand sighing tiredly as if it were some great burden learning this new stuff. Ford had to hold back the all out laugh at that point and offered to, after classes, come back around for a few days and help the old guy out. Phil was more then grateful and granted it wasn't that much fun but the old guy was so much like a grandfather Ford was glad to spend a bit of extra time with him.

After class Ford had raced home, he'd gotten a text telling him the new equipment had arrived and that Google had someone waiting for him. He let the Google-Guy know that he had to get to work and was in a hurry. Despite this he ended up having to spend the better part of an hour and a half finding out all the new stuff, how it all worked and how to do basically everything. By the time he got to work he was yelled at by the new girl who'd just started then the lower manager reamed him out. On top of this he had ten orders, ten; each and every one taking 25 to 30 minutes just to get the item out to the customer which meant that every order would take a good 45 minutes to an hour or close to it, without traffic. Ford shook his head and after the gryping he got he took his first order and went straight over to John's place.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

John plopped down gasping and wincing from the terrible pain. His hips and legs were bugging him again, his lower back screaming out in agony. He'd had a long hard three days and things weren't getting any easier.

After far to long the pain subsided enough for him to have his brains back. He looked over the mess of paperwork and other items on his desk and started to seriously calculate upping his prices just to get some of the customers to go away.

John's place had been so damn over run no one had, had enough time for so much as a bathroom break. First thing yesterday the doors were being pounded on a good two hours before the shop was scheduled to open. Once again John had freaked going for his gun, this time positive that a mob was after his shop, that public opinion had suddenly turned and his place was one of the first few to be torn down.

It was only now, thinking back on it that he suddenly realized, he kept waiting for everything to turn and become like Afghanistan.

 

…

John leaned back putting his arms behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling, why would he be thinking like that!?

…

It was because the atmosphere was feeling like that.

Tense to the point of popping.

Everyone was against each other pointing fingers of blame at the very people next to them, refusing to let by goens be by gones, forgive or just plain walk away. Everyone was taking issue with the smallest most mundane things, refusing to admit that everything was either created by or run by humans and people as a whole and individually make mistakes, screw up; sometimes in small ways and areas, sometimes in huge ways and areas.

And the whole justice system was beyond gone, run by criminals for criminals, innocent victims and bystanders were being arrested, blamed for the very crimes committed against them. Their side of the story was not being told and if they were allowed a voice at all their side was spoken against and made out to be a lie or at best questionable. Even people who stopped to try and help those who were being hurt, burglarized and the like were arrested or turned into a “criminal” in the police departments eyes. Someone who stopped by to help would be taken in simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, blamed for something they had noting to do with. Their acts of good punished and their lives, names, reputations ruined simply because they saw a victim and could not stand by and let them be hurt, robbed or what have you.

It was these two things right there that made the very air vibrate with nearly igniting rage, just like over in the Arab countries.

 

It was terrible truly terrible …

John shifted testing his hip and legs, not yet; couldn't move just yet.

And with the legal arrest system now being a business, where cops had to arrest more on this day then they did on the exact same day the year before, and more then they did the year before that; a whole system made to up the number of arrests while causing the true-real criminals to go free. The situation was so skewed that when say, a real criminal turned themselves in, which is the point it had gotten too, the cereal murderer or what have you was not touted as “we got our man!” but hidden away; slipped quietly into the prison system, under far lesser charges. Instead of being put away for life he's in for say, bad parking tickets, or some other rot. And instead of having no parole he's let out after a good say five to seven years. While someone else who merely tried to stop and help a poor old African American lady who'd been mugged was put away in jail for life, without parole; simply because he was being a good Samaritan.

John shook his head, it was terrifying, truly horrendous and unbearable!
“Ahhhooff!” John wiped his face tilting his chair back to stare at the ceiling.

… Poverty was increasing, hopelessness was increasing, and everyone had such differing beliefs, attitudes, ideas.

And in this vacuum, this division being created was a hole that allowed extremists to pop up and flourish like weeds, and not just any old weeds. It was just like over in the dessert countries, where everyone was nuts … maybe it was the heat, maybe the heat made everyone go absolutely insane.

John looked over at his on the wall electronic thermometer that gave the inside and outside, temperatures, humidity and air pressures. The weather had been doing oddball things and that was another argument, it was clearly getting hotter but anything that could be done would merely slow down the heating process now, not stop it. John stared, dead tired having not slept for a good three days really. He'd gotten cat naps and snippets of snoozes here and there but he'd been having to work straight day and night since that damn T.V. show had aired.

God damn those darn reporters and the local news station! He plopped his chair down and sighed. It was barely 3:00 p.m. and he really needed to eat something, yeah it'd been bad to slink off home after being overrun, letting his employees deal with it all but it soon became too much.

John got up gasping and wincing, he limped over to his fridge seeing what he could do in the line of food for himself; not much, he looked at one pitiful bit of Ramen …

It was a still sealed uncooked plastic rectangle of “Chicken Flavor Yakisoba with Japanese Noodles”, why he had it in his fridge he didn't really care at the moment he was just glad it was there. He managed to find some chicken bullion and fairly good celery and green onions. He set to work scrubbing and chopping everything up. He put the veggies, bullion and all in the microwaveable container and filled it to the line with water from a water-bottle, then stuck it all in to nuke. While waiting he looked around and managed to find some possibly not too old Spring Rolls in the freezer that he'd gotten a while ago, finger food for one of his last meetings here. One of the perks to having your office in your home was that if anyone needed anything they could just get it easy and the leftovers were his to eat. John warmed up three spring rolls in his toaster oven and held the dipping sauce packet between his hands, trying to thaw it while he waited for his stuff to finish.

John leaned against the counter his mind instantly going back to what he'd been concentrating on.

One of the problems was that the side that had the most power was fighting the hardest and the loudest, saying they were morally upright and were of God and religious and, or family values. Just like the extremists over in the other countries where women couldn't drive and had to wear burkas. Their countries had become so morally upright that it wasn't even safe for women to walk the streets alone any longer, much less go anywhere without the aid of a man.

These groups in the U.S. were much like the ones over there, promising through many and various means, even the magical act of, “being right with God” that the whole of the nation would be well again, but what did they mean by well?

They always left it hanging and never answered it, they just kept harping on the same stuff and never once said anything like everyone having the money and the means to support themselves-their families. They just kept saying that the whole nation needed to “turn back to God again” and magically if everyone did this these politicians, public speakers, groups, etc. said, “everything would be good again, like it was …” but, like it was when?

John had always wondered about that, what all these people; senators, representatives, preachers and the like meant by that, it had never made sense.

 

Did they truly mean when slavery was alive and well, when the KKK and prohibition was all the rage, like John had been told once. Or was it something else, harking back to a time that had never existed, it was far to easy to take things from the past or even future and create them to be what you want. If no one or very few are alive from back in the day then it's easy to make the past into something it wasn't, paint it as an entirely different thing or animal. It was one of the reasons John had never liked history, as one of his friends had put it, it was written by the victors and therefore innately skewed, told from the perspective of “his” “story.” The current historians only had the old records to go upon, they couldn't decipher what really happened or what it was truly like because they hadn't been there, hadn't been alive during those times.

John figured to say that things were good back in the day was to look at the past with a tainted eye and not admit to all the greatly controlling, large to minute problems that had existed back then. Even looking to the future is a form of escapism and yes it's nice to imagine but really it does no good, unless Oprah was right and imagining your future really did cause it to become reality.

 

…

 

John really doubted that though.

 

John decided to go over and dig for some kind of a snack, his food was still burning hot, one of the problems with these dishes he'd found. Since he didn't want another burn blister on his tongue or in his mouth he went ahead and started searching for some kind of … just something.

The whole point had become to en-mass as much money as possible and the hell with everyone else, either let the other guy suffer, hurt them or even prevent the opposition from also succeeding. And that was the other problem right there, everyone was pitted against each other, no one was helping each other out. No one was coming together even in small groups to protect and defend each other, the only ones coming even close to that were the terrifying groups, neo-natzis, KKK, and others.

John found some marshmallows and butter, his cereal cabinet had Rice Krispies … Nutella.

Maybe that was why these groups were gaining so much ground now, it was he only place, like street gangs where you could actually manage some kind of protection, a slight hint of clearly false safety, even if it was tentative.

 

…

Of course the once well organized groups seem far more, well, “safe” then something as wild and nutty as a street gang; but John had never been a part of either so really he had no idea, and he didn't want to have any idea either.

John managed to hop over to his stove and took out a large pot and a nice large pan. He greased the pan then took the rest of the butter and put it in the pot turning the stove on low. He took out a spoon watching, hypnotized as the butter melted …

There was no upward mobility anymore, anywhere; heck John had to add on the Cannabis and open a Friendly shop just in order to hawk his goods, there was no way anyone would have come by-heck he'd been told not to waste his money on a sub-shop or even a soup and sub shop. You could no longer work for a business anymore and expect loyalty, in any way shape of form. You couldn't work for a company your whole life any longer, it was not only unheard of it was seen as downright wrong, almost illegal. Yet the whole of the U.S. was set up so that you were forced to open your own business instead of work for someone else. And for little shops like John's if you tried starting a small business more likely then not you were going to fail, your very investments, retirement even house and car being ripped away in order to pay for your companies debts, and there were no laws against this, protecting one or even more time business owners from such things. If the business did survive it couldn't grow, even now John was fighting, cutting prices close to the line just to get products off the shelf and sold in time. He was doing his best just to make ends meet and not close shop.

John rubbed his face, “Blah!” and shook himself trying to wake up, the butter was nearly burning and he grabbed the mini-marshmallows, quickly dumping in the whole bag, no measuring, into the pot. He stared nearly drifting off again, he really needed to change the way things were run around here. John stirred going through the steps of making Rice Krispies treats, it was methodical and helped in some way John couldn't put his finger on, like walking. Just moving and doing something that took little to no thought helped, as if his body needed to work out the problems for him, it also helped keep himself awake. After a bit John was able to pour and spread the gooey substance, he licked and ate up the scraps enjoying every bit of it.

When he was done he cleaned everything up even going so far as washing and drying it all, there was no real reason to put anything in the dishwasher. John looked down at the thing, so far he'd barely used it, the appliance only being run when he had guests over the night or day before. He barely ever got the ability to be in his own house he was so busy with his job-his shop.

Thinking about that brought him back to what he'd been contemplating earlier.

Those in power now no matter what party they represented were willing to pass any laws and do whatever it took to get a larger pay check and en-mass as much money as they could, causing poverty to increase. And because of their evil, their conscious being riddled with guilt they were seeing everyone and thing as enemies, seeing any kind of dissent as a threat to their word, authority, power or their money, etc. And their way of thinking, like mold on food or a blood disease was spreading and quickly, eating up the rest of the nation; it was terrible.

John sat down to his now late lunch it being four o'clock.

“Ahh,” he inhaled the fumes; fast, easy and so cheap it's crappy food, where would he be without it. John smiled to himself and pulled the top off his noodles the darn things still steaming hot, he folded them over, stirring to make sure everything was incorporated well. John dug into his spring rolls first and was glad that they weren't as terribly hot. As he ate he kept thinking and realized that really the current problem was that the side that had all the say wasn't letting the other side be heard much less have their ideas be done. They weren't even allowing pockets of dissenting opinions and life styles to exist. They were out to, “tear down the opposition” as they themselves had said. They were radical, refusing to give or compromise at all; even giving up any pretense of playing fair with any kind of opposition. (Heck they'd just taken out one of their own with a bridge debacle since he wasn't a radical like them and had a chance of being voted into office by the very opposite party.) In the 80's and even 90's lip service, which was just as bad, would have been applied liberally like a slave to help an especially nasty jagged pill go down smoothly, and compromise was big but now, now everyone and thing was in absolutes, there was no compromise especially with the side that thought God was on their side.

It was just like Afghanistan, the parties in power were spouting religious or moral absolutes, saying they were in the right, and the peoples rights were being ripped away. Everywhere John looked he saw people being oppressed and on the verge of doing something, anything, to relieve their pain, their daily-weekly-monthly torture.

The worst part was that the religious, the “morally upright”, the ones who were shouting the loudest and making the most fuss were also the ones inciting and igniting upset and chaos; they were poking, tilting, pushing everyone and thing to the edge of rioting, it was terrible.

John pulled at his chin itching the stubble there, he would have to shave when he was done with dinner, or lunch whatever he as having now. It didn't take too long and John was done, he took care of the recyclables and trash then sat down to have one last treat, a Rice Krispies Treat, yumm! He took the Nutella and cut the gooey stuff into skinny perfect finger food type bars. He popped the jar open and dipped the sugary bar into the Nutella, savoring the pick me up.

“Mmmmuugh!” God it was good!
When he was done he got up going to shave. Thankfully his office was also his house so scrubbing up was no big deal. It felt great to be able to have meetings right in his living room, the atmosphere calming him down and letting him know if any clients were a good match. So far it had helped him get some pretty close friends, most would come over to do work and would end up staying for a long time enjoying his company.

Granted it was a cheap shot, doing what he could through business to get friends and companions, or at least people to hold a few light conversations with.

 

When John got in the bathroom he decided what the hell and took a shower shaving himself to squeaky clean, “Ahh!” it felt great!

When he got out he dried off and collected his old clothes then got sucked into straightening out his place.

John pulled at his chin then winced at the sting, he went and slathered chap stick on … God what a relief! Afterwards he looked down and almost tried to do his whole body but then thought better of it. He went in search of his lotion, scrounging around but wasn't able to fin any, he wondered if he ever had any to begin with. John righted himself his back giving out a sharp pain, “Gaw!” He winced and started shuffling back over to his kitchen chairs when his back door, or was it technically his front door he could never really figure that out, was knocked on.

John made his way over and was surprised to see Ford there, it was a bit early but it was also odd for John to not be in the shop at this time of day. John opened the door after stepping back from the pep hole, Ford had probably been out front asking for him.

“Hey.” John smiled at the kid-guy, he had to remind himself that Ford was a young man and not a little brother or kid sibling. The youth had always struck John as his responsibility and therefore his closest friend. He was one of the first few people John had taken into his heart, as much as he denied it. … John had learned the value of keeping everyone at arms length and not letting anyone in or close. If people got close they died, or hurt you in one way or another, either way it was best to stay away even if you were in close physical proximity.

John looked Ford over, “What's that on your-”
“Oh! It's GoogleGlass! Here!” the kid-man, young man, John remained himself again, popped the glasses off his face and started to shove them onto his head.

“Here-wait!” John took them and put them on.

“Okay see the...” Ford went through everything showing off his neat new toy. John was thrown off but it kinda impressed him. At the moment it seemed more gimmicky then anything else but he could definitely see how wiring up his shop and passing these out to all his employees could really make things faster and easier for everyone. Heck, they wouldn't even have to text each other they could just send a video or audio feed and ask directly, even if they were on the other side of the state.

“Wow.”
“Yeah! Isn't it great man! Here-gimmeit.” Ford wiggled his fingers getting John to disengage.

John chuckled and handed it back.

 

“So is this what you been doing lately?”

“Yeah-well, this just came today,” Ford deflated and he looked down.

 

“What's wrong ?”

“Dude...” Ford bit his lips together and looked up, he wasn't sure how to ask this one … wow must be pretty heavy.

“Here sit.” John pulled out a chair but Ford hesitated, “have you been getting more customers then usual lately?” Ford lifted his head and the glasses in his hand as if reaching out to John.

“Here, sit down,” John patted the table top, “sit down.” he winced at his own voice, he sounded like his mother, God. He couldn't help it, Ford, despite his age; he just brought out something in John, he couldn't help himself. No matter when or where if Ford needed him or wanted help John would drop what he was doing and try to fix whatever problem the poor kid had. He got very protective and parental around the young man and … well, it was just darn weird, John leaned back frowning at himself, at a loss. He'd never felt like a parent before and had never wanted kids, he didn't have the patience for them and was too darn selfish to spend all his now extremely precious energy, time and strength on caring for a kid; but Ford, Ford … it was odd, his very mind and, it was like body-his biology made an exception for him. He didn't know why, there as just no reason for it; unless he was longing for that which he had never had, what his brother did have; a happy family. John had the joy of witnessing his brother's home, his three kids and wife interacting-loving eachother and each others company; how they hadn't fought and hated-despising each other like John and his siblings had when they were growing up.

 

…

No.

No it seemed that John's brother had a very healthy, happy family life and John had terribly been on the outside of it. The whole time John had been living with his brother, which was only a few months, he'd not been allowed to be a part of his brother's family, to truly get close, interact; to be a part of it. It'd been terrible, like being on the outside of a glass wall, his face pressed tightly against the impenetrable division as if he could, through osmosis or some chemical or other means, inhale; imbue the acceptance and caring he saw there and was not allowed to be a apart of; to have.

It was like John was trying to draw in, through the very invisible wall the love he needed so badly and just wasn't allowed to imbue.

 

…

John shook himself, trying to come back to the here and now; at least he had figured out the reason that he was doting on his friend so much, he was trying to create a family in whatever means and ways possible. John shook his head again coming back to the conversation at hand.

“Sorry what?”
Ford looked at him, “I donno what to do.”

“You said ten orders?”
“Yeah, on top of the five I had this morning.”
“Crap.” John pulled at his chin. It was against Federal law to have more then one ounce of marijuana in your possession so the carriers or “delivery boys” could only process one order at a time, if they were pulled over carrying even a millionth of an ounce more then they'd be in federal prison for life, no parole. John wagged his head, the laws were just plain ridiculous, they needed to be overturned, wiped away, it was impeding business. Heck it was the main reason he'd decided to not allow deliveries, carry out or even a dive through window, which would have been an option if he'd chosen the store on the end of the strip mall. The whole thing was literally prohibition all over again and it was just plain wrong, ruining lives for no reason, creating gangs and danger-deaths everywhere. Heck prohibition was the reason gangs had taken a hold so well and thoroughly in America at the turn of the century and it was the same now, with the pot and drug wars. It was literally creating and fueling the problem, the cops, judges and whole system created the problem and then cleaned it up, they got you coming and going it was terrible.

If things were going to really get cleaned up then instead of making drugs illegal it should be legalized and strongly taxed and regulated, with in and inch of it's life. John knew that if you truly wanted to kill something then just tax the hell out of it, the taxes made the item unsavory for businesses and the customers, causing everyone to go elsewhere, or just do without. And in the mean time the local and surrounding economies got rich off the tax money, overall it was a win situation, there was so lose. Money would be coming in, people wouldn't be overdosing from “hot hits”, or items that killed being mixed into something that should be safe and mundane. Gangs would be instantly eliminated, no more killings over something as small and worthless as a “dime of …” well anything.

And best of all anyone who had a problem with drugs, addiction, all the money could go to much needed rehab centers and shrinks, along with helping people reconstruct their lives and get on their feet. A boom of jobs would be created and the states would have a surplus of money, which could go to the poor and jobless, even homeless.

More then likely though all the money and tax revenue would only end up lining those in power's pockets, representatives, senators, governors and everyone else with a big title or on the take in the state capitols. … Really there could be a lot said for keeping money out of their hands and pockets. Heck they were already being paid far to much, voting in easily and smoothly their own pay hikes, raises and vacations; while they cut everyone else's pay and eliminated vacation time. The state lottery that had just recently been instituted not five years ago now, instead of it going to the schools like it was supposed to, or even the winners, it was going to legislators pockets, not even one child had been helped by that money.

John shook his head.

“Hey man.” Fords voice broke in.
“Huh?” John looked over at his young friend.

“What's wrong?”
“What?”

“You've been really distant tonight, what's wrong?”
“Oh!” John stretched popping his shoulders and shifted, “ohhh...” he scratched, “I guess … I'm just too darn tired. Sorry man.” he rubbed his face.

“No what's goin' on.”

John looked up, Ford's face was full of concern. A chuckle popped out, John couldn't help it, he was shocked to find his own concern, his own words thrown back at him, Ford was mirroring him exactly, it was so darn odd! He smiled large and wide despite himself, “it's okay, it's okay. I'm just tired and my minds running,” he motioned with his hand, “you know how it is when you get tired, trying to solve all the worlds problems in one night.” He looked at Ford, smirking wide.

“Ahh...” Ford nodded, frowning and clearly lost.

“My own shop has been over run, everyone's coming in at once. Hell!” John sat up, “I was just thinking how I could up the prices just enough to convince a few customers to go elsewhere,” he smirked.

“Yeah I had no idea-you know it was cause of that damn New Local News thing?”
“Yeah that's what I heard-” John said.
“Everyone was calling my name when I got to school,” Ford said.
“Really?”
“Yeah! Hell one of my teachers even called me out, said that 'Mr. Celebrity was here-too important to get to class on time.' ”

“Shit-head,” John said.

“I'll say,” Ford said.

 

They got into it then, having a very in depth chat with time slipping away. it was something John didn't even realize he'd been needing, for a long time now he'd been needing a good chat, like stretching his legs with a long walk after being cramped up for a full week, it'd been too long, far to long.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford got to the shop and swung by John's place to see if there was anything he could do for him. He usually stopped by to try and lend a hand but today things had been so bad and rushed that instead of helping he ended up getting help. He was glad for it and talked for a bit with John Sheppard the shop owner, letting the guy know about his troubles and getting some good advice, it really soothed his nerves and upped his spirits a lot.

“I donno I had no idea.” Adrian Ford ran his fingers over his hair, he sat hugging the back of a turned around chair tilting it as John sat opposite him and leaned back in his own hard wooden seat.

“Yeah I'm kinda surprised, here I thought yesterday was a fluke-my new creation actually was that good. I had no idea.”
“Yeah well, I just found out about it today.”
“From who,” John said.
“Amy,” Ford said.
“Who's-”
“She's helping out Kinsey, just got hired, they measure out the items and set stuff up to be sent out,”Ford said.
“Oh. Huh. How many orders-”
“Ten man!”
“Ten!?”
“Yeah! I had four this morning and then I came in tonight and they had ten waiting for me and-”his pocket buzzed. Ford picked it up looking at the text and typing. “I got five more-what the crap.”
“Dude.”
“Yeah I'll say.” Ford finished his response and huffed shoving the phone back into his pocket. “I told them I'm in college-I took the job cause it would allow me to study.”
“Yeah I know...” John pinched his lips together biting and twisting them. “Have you asked them to hire on more-”
“No an' I don' dare-”
“Why not.” John nonchalantly shrugged, he leaned back playing it cool.

“Cause...” Ford gave him a look.

“How about I try talking to 'em,” John shrugged again as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“Please?”
“Yeah sure.”
“I was actually wondering if I could come work for you-I need ta' sleep.” Ford stood up and turned the chair around sliding it so that it was put away.

“Actually!” John stood himself stretching, “I'd like that.” John walked around his kitchen table and patted Ford on the shoulder, “If it gets to be too much you can come work for me okay?” He squeezed and smiled big and genuine at Ford.

Ford smiled back, “alright man, thanks.” He nodded and grabbed John the both giving each other big manly back pats.

“I gotta go man.”
“Alright. Drive-”
“You really gonna open another store?”
John paused and leaned back, “I donno.”
Ford waited a beat.

“I donno... I'll think about it.” John stepped back patting Ford's back.
“Well, we could really use it around here.”
“Well,” John chuckled, “if you come to work for me then you'd be my tech guy, not a runner.”
“That's great!” Ford beamed at him, he loved technology, “well, I gotta go.” It was already a good hour and a half gone and if he didn't hurry he wouldn't get the one order out that he had with him. Ford knew when he got into work that evening that there was no way all the orders were going to be delivered tonight. There was a nine o'clock cut off point when the store wouldn't deliver to customers homes after that hour and with how many deliveries he'd been handed Ford would have had to work all night just to get them filled.

There was just no way at all.

“Alright. Drive safe Adrian.”

“I will. Thanks John.”
“You're welcome.” John smiled at him, Ford could feel John watch him as he left.