A Day at Torso
“It might be the answer.”
“I don’t think so.”
“But, you do have a certain fashion sense … albeit, not like mine,” Emmett said looking Brian up and down.
“I have a pair of trousers at home that have been doused in pickle juice, and I know where you can get butt ugly Big Q work shirts,” Brian informed his friend as they sat sipping coffee at the diner. “Does that qualify me for entry into haberdashery?
“That hardly qualifies you for anything.”
“Exactly!” Brian agreed. “So what makes you think I could work at Torso?”
“Just because you’re not cut out for the Big Q doesn’t mean you aren’t a salesman. I think you might have the right stuff for Torso.”
Brian chuckled. “And just what would the right stuff for Torso consist of?”
“You know what’s in fashion at Babylon, and you are a rather fabulous fag yourself,” Emmett explained. Brian nodded in agreement. “All you have to learn is how to sell.”
“I know how to sell. I’ve sold to presidents of companies and corporations.”
“Yes, but the customers at Torso need to be handled in just the right manner,” Emmett informed him.
“With kid gloves, I bet,” Brian replied in a derogatory manner.
“God no! Kid gloves went out in the last century. You need to handle them with mesh gloves.”
Brian choked on his coffee. “Christ, no wonder you can sell to the morons that frequent Torso.”
“You frequent Torso too,” Emmett reminded Brian.
“Used to,” Brian said shaking his head. His current financial situation had greatly limited his shopping these days.
“Look, Brian, we need another sales person at Torso. I can get you the job, but you have to try to be nice to the customers. If you want some quick money, this could be the ticket.”
“How much can I make in a day?”
“We employ by the week,” Emmett stated. “And you get a small percentage of your sales.”
“I may not last a week.”
“If you’re not going to last any longer than you did at the Big Q, then you better not even start,” Emmett warned.
“That was rather aborted,” Brian admitted.
“I know. You traumatized Michael.”
Brian chuckled. “Yeah, I told him it would never work.”
“I thought this might work, but it was just a thought,” Emmett said with resignation. “Obviously you’re not interested in the job.” He slid to the edge of the booth ready to leave. Brian’s hand closed over his wrist before he could stand up.
“Wait,” Brian said.
“What?”
“You don’t get kids at Torso do you?”
“Never,” Emmett said horrified. “We cater only to gay adults.”
“What about that baby section?”
“It didn’t do so well. We canned it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” Emmett asked.
“I’ll take the job.”
“Oh, goody,” Emmett said clapping his hands enthusiastically. Having Brian Kinney as a salesclerk should boost revenues. The curiosity factor alone should bring in potential customers.
“Don’t get too excited,” Brian warned.
“This could be fun,” Emmett said cheerfully.
“That’s what Michael said.”
“Oh,” Emmett replied. Maybe he was making this idea seem better than it actually was. A little warning bell went off somewhere in his head. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sure? No. Will I give it a try? Yes.”
“Okay,” Emmett said uncertainly. “Can you start now?”
“Now?”
“Yes, as in this moment. I have to get back to the store, and I can show you the ropes. You might as well get started.”
“Okay, let’s give it a try,” Brian said getting up from his seat. “How bad can it be?”
Emmett glared at his friend wondering exactly that. Against his better judgment he headed for Torso with Brian in tow.
*****
A half hour later a customer entered Torso.
“Okay,” Emmett said to Brian. “This is your chance to apply everything I’ve been teaching you. Your first customer.” Emmett indicated the quite good looking man who was definitely heading towards middle age. “Work your magic.”
Brian snorted. Like it took magic to sell underwear. “May I help you,” he said to the man using his best sales voice.
“Why yes, I believe you can,” the man replied giving Brian the once over.
Brian bristled. “What are you looking for?”
“Something to wear to the club tomorrow night.”
“Club?”
“Babylon.”
“You’re going to Babylon?” Brian asked stifling a snicker.
“Yes, is that a problem?” the man asked. He didn’t like the attitude of this clerk even if he was extremely good looking.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Brian said trying to be conciliatory. “I’d be happy to show you our club clothes. They’re right over here.”
The man followed Brian to the rack of clothes laden with sequin covered shells and cut-out pants and slinky leather pieces. “Perhaps something from here,” Brian said indicating the array.
“Ooh, I’ve always liked sequins,” the man gushed pulling a sparkling top from the rack.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit young…” The man glared at Brian daring him to finish that sentence. “…for someone of you maturity,” Brian added thinking better of what he had been about to say.
“I want to be youthful and carefree. I haven’t been to Babylon in ages.”
“Millennia,” Brian muttered to himself.
“Did you say something?” the man asked sensing that he was being criticized.
“Of course you want to be carefree. Don’t we all,” Brian said trying to recover.
The man gave Brian a look. He wasn’t sure he liked this salesclerk, but he did like the sequined top. “I’ll take it,” he said handing the top to Brian.
“Do you want it wrapped, boxed, bagged or would you like to wear it?” Brian asked.
“Of course I don’t want to wear it. It’s for the club,” the man said raising his voice. “What kind of an idiot are you?”
Brian was about to tell the man all about idiots when Emmett arrived to see what was going on. He had heard the loud voice.
“Is everything all right over here?” Emmett asked.
“You really need to train your staff. This man verges on rude,” the man said getting his temper under control. He wasn’t going to let some insolent salesclerk upset him.
“I must be improving,” Brian said. “I was called rude at my last job, now I’m just verging on it.”
“Insolence!” the man said. “I am not used to being treated in this manner. Forget the top. I’m going to another store that has better trained staff, and clothing that won’t fall apart on the first wearing.” He started for the door of Torso.
“What difference does it make if it falls apart?” Brian called to the man. “You’ll be wishing some young twink will rip it off you. Like that’s going to happen!”
“Well I never!” the man said loudly. “You deserve to be fired. Disgraceful!” He slammed the door of Torso hard as he left.
“Brian…!”
“I know, I know. I fucked it up.”
“You cost us a sale. I really thought you could do this.”
“Don’t sweat it, Emmett. Retail isn’t for me.”
“No kidding. You really have to give a job more than half an hour to know how it’s going to work,” Emmett suggested. “And you should hone your social skills.”
“What social skills? Just ask anyone and they’ll tell you that I don’t have any.”
“Brian, I know that’s a crock, but you really should try harder.”
Brian nodded in acknowledgement that Emmett was correct. “Never mind. I’ll just leave.”
“That might be best.”
Brian nodded. He had more than doubled the time he had lasted at this job compared to his job at the Big Q. If this trend continued, in ten or twelve more jobs he might actually make it through a day in retail.
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