my first day at the shoppe was a memorable one to say the least. a woman - let's call her florence, flo for short - in her late forties perhaps, came in, in search of some trousers. wanting so sincerely to make a good impression, i found all the trousers i could in her size and hung them spectrally on a rail for her. i think she was either pleased or disappointed with me as i couldn't tell the difference between her smile and her grimace.
flo tried on the first pair. pale beige, almost cream. with her back turned to me, she bent down to fold the legs of the trousers upward to adjust the length for a potential hem job. as she did so, seeping on to the the trousers between her legs was some blood. i was witness to the occurence.
'do you need a tampon?' i asked
'no i don't think so...'
'i do.'
'do i need to buy the trousers?'
'well...' ('you did bleed on them,' i thought - but not aloud)
and i can't really remember what happened after that. so much for good impressions. short-story-long, how awkward
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