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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 5, 2013 4:39:11 GMT -8
Of all the things his upbringing kept Donovan sheltered from, candy was the least of his regrets. Sugary treats had been almost completely banned from the household, even the zero-calorie substitutes that made his mother go on long rants about government brainwashing that Donovan didn't really understand. Even without the overabundance of candy, Halloween was outright condemned as satanic, and Donovan felt he was too old now to ever try celebrating it.
And maybe there was something to it, because he never witnessed anyone consume as much sugar as his roommate that Donovan was nearly convinced that his constant state of agitation had to be somewhat linked to his awful diet. Still, he found himself indulging Altan's addiction by using baked goods as a way to soothe the man's temper. As often as that was, it was a wonder the man wasn't obese.
This time Donovan had managed to shatter one of Altan's stupidly expensive vases that looked nearly identical to the $5 ones at the general store, although his comment of such had gotten him shoved out the door and locked out for what he hoped would only be the rest of the day. No access to his kitchen meant not apology cupcakes, and Donovan figured returning after an appropriately long time with some candy as a peace offering would be better than nothing.
The store he entered looked promising with its nice selection, but he was quickly overwhelmed by the choices and little idea of what was supposed to be good. After staring blankly at the displays of candy, Donovan glanced at the elder man behind the counter and wondered if it would be too much to bother him. Perhaps assistance from somebody that actually knew about candy would be better than guessing, and he didn't want to linger too long. Not that he had anywhere else to be. "Which of these is most likely to cause diabetes?" he asked curiously, figuring something overly sweet would be best.
Tag: Harold Date: 21 May
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 7, 2013 7:56:11 GMT -8
Harold had been sleeping more comfortably for the past few days, and being more well-rested and less achy meant that he could start taking up shifts at the shop again. Granted, his time there is more hands-off than usual, with more time spent manning the counter than making candy or working on the shop floor. He'd take what he could get, though. It got him out of the house, and he loved his shop and being a part of the process.
That is, at least, until questions like this. Harold looked up from the day's crossword page to squint at the young man asking such a thing. Was he serious? That was an odd opener, but at least the answer was simple. "Sugar intake doesn't really cause diabetes. That's a myth. It can help support weight gain, though, and that might help diabetes along, if one's genetically inclined that way."
He tapped his pen on the counter to retract the nib, setting it down and pushing it aside along with the paper. "If you're asking what's the sweetest, we've got gummy stuff covered in sugar. Stuff like that." And, oh, just to be safe... "You aren't trying to kill anybody, are you?"
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 7, 2013 22:33:23 GMT -8
The explanation sounded like it came straight out of a pamphlet from the doctor's office, down to the oddly polite way of phrasing of can make you fat. But Donovan knew well enough to just allow older people to ramble on about what they wanted, not daring to interrupt the brief lecture with how much he didn't really care about diabetes. Even jokingly and not expecting to be taken seriously, he had been the one to bring the subject up.
Maybe the man had to give the same rehearsed answer to health-conscious customers a lot, sure it was detrimental to sales. "That's swell," Donovan agreed, taking a look at the recommended gummy selection, finding it a bit excessive to cover something made of sugar with even more sugar. Yes, that'd be perfect.
"My mother used to tell me people put razor blades in candy," Donovan glanced back curiously at the man behind the counter, doubting that was a standard question to ask of buyers. Quickly assessing his own appearance, knowing he looked a bit shabby at worst but hardly suspicious, Donovan wasn't sure what made him come off as a potential killer. "But I didn't think murder by candy was actually a thing. I'm actually trying to keep somebody from killing me."
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 8, 2013 19:31:56 GMT -8
Harold raised an eyebrow at the idea of razor blades in candy, but he supposed that couldn't be too far down the path of semi-normal, paranoid parenthood. He couldn't say if it was an effective tactic, having never had kids, but okay. People had their methods and whatnot. The rest of the boy's explanation didn't do much to ease Harold's skepticism, either, and his other eyebrow shot up at the idea that the customer was attempting to avoid murder, himself. Bit of a dramatic sort, wasn't he? But no matter.
"We can fix up a gift basket, if you really gotta kiss some--" Oh. Ahem. Harold paused and cleared his throat before continuing, amending his almost-slipped poor choice in words. "Tail."
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 8, 2013 20:15:40 GMT -8
"Tail?" Donovan asked with a confused tilt of his head, suspecting it was some sort of lingo used amongst older generations that left him imagining how much easier it would be to deal with his roommate if he were a cat. Or worse, if there were claws involved. He'd probably be the type of cat that would pee all over the blankets if you so much looked at him the wrong way. Better off as a human was probably the only nice thing he could think about the man in that moment.
"Nah. There won't be any kissing," he clarified, because that ship had already sunk before it ever sailed. It wasn't a romantic gift, and a gift basket would be a bit excessive and out of his affordable price range. Instead he got an assortment of the sugar-coated gummies, filling the bag with as many as he could fit. Hoping it was okay to mix the various amusing shapes into the plastic bag, he brought it to the counter for weighing.
While waiting for the man to ring up the price, Donovan tugged off his bookbag and began digging through the zipper pocket for change. His wallet had been left at the apartment, but he was sure he had enough coins to cover the price. Pulling out a handful of change, he was a bit discouraged by the lack of quarters to make the process easier, but began counting out the amounts into piles on the counter.
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 9, 2013 4:36:47 GMT -8
Harold didn't have much in the way of conversation to make after the initial exchange, so he waited unobtrusively by the counter until presented with the bag of sweets. He tucked the opening of the bag under and anchored it down with tape before setting it onto the scale, fiddling with the settings for a second before he rattled off the price, $6.27.
Which... The young man apparently didn't have in reasonable bills. Harold looked up from the register to find little stacks of coins forming on the counter, and he had to stop himself from asking, incredulous, if this kid was seriously doing this. Instead, he leaned back in his stool to cast a gaze to the back office's door, just slightly cracked. "Hey, Edie," he startled, tone somewhere between one of humor and one of aggravation. "Do we have any coin rolls?"
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Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Dec 10, 2013 4:14:42 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 21st
tag | Harold & Don
words | 238 | Edith hadn't wanted to let her husband do too much around the shop until he was fully recovered. However, she also understood how restless he had been feeling. Had it been her in his place, she probably would've been worse. So, if he insisted on sitting around and working in the shop, she was going to let him. This still meant he had limits though. Edith was attending to a bit more along with all of the things she normally did, and part of that was double-checking their balances for the day. She was doing just that when she heard her husband calling her. Not hesitating, Edith stopped what she was doing to check on him, smiling at the boy at the counter as she walked over.
"A few, why?" And just as she looked down at the counter in front of her husband, her question was answered. There were tiny piles of change, nothing higher than a dime in the stacks. Money was money and she wasn't above piling her own change unto unsuspecting cashiers. However, looking at the boy and then back to the change, Edith couldn't hold back a fit of laughter. The misfortunes of her husband were becoming all too amusing to her.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and looked up at their laundry pile of a customer. "Not this many coin rolls. Sweetheart, have you ever used a Coinstar?" |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 10, 2013 5:20:11 GMT -8
Donovan hadn't anticipated paying in coins would be a problem if he managed to get it all sorted out quickly and efficiently. And he was rather good at counting change, often helped the elderly customers when he worked at the flower shop without feeling too rushed. Usually they loved paying in exact change. Cradling the handful of pennies and nickels, Donovan had the decency to look a bit apologetic at the cashier's aggravation as he gently stacked the pennies into sets of ten. Why did this require backup?
As the woman's laughter died down and his own embarrassment grew, he wondered if he should quickly leave if he was causing that much of a hassle. But he already bagged up the candy, and he was sure resorting those into the correct containers would be even more of an irritation for the old man. Maybe he could volunteer to do so himself.
"A what?" he asked with slumped shoulders, looking thoroughly defeated as he dropped the handful of change back into his bag. "I can just... go," he offered.
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 13, 2013 18:53:07 GMT -8
"No, no, no. Don't go, just--" Harold tossed Edith a quick frown. Did she really have to laugh at the kid so hard? Now he was all flustered, and he was going to leave without buying anything. Not to mention he was apparently walking into a murder. "Look, there's a supermarket right up the street, and they have a Coinstar. Edie can drive you. No big deal."
Because if she can embarrass a kid that hard, she could also go out of her way a bit to make up for it. She probably wouldn't mind picking up a couple of things, anyway. He was more than half sure that Edith couldn't walk into a grocery store without thinking of a half-dozen things that they desperately needed. Bonus points if she already had all the appropriate coupons handy. Thus, he didn't miss a beat in volunteering her. "Isn't that right, dear?"
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Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Dec 14, 2013 7:07:16 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 21st
tag | Harold & Don
words | 209 | In Harold's grumpy older age, it was easy to mistake him as the crueler one in the Herschel duo. However, this was a false assumption by many. The boy's poor reaction was met by little sympathy from the woman as she fought back a few more giggles. She knew that she shouldn't have responded how she did, but she was too old to care about what people thought of her reactions. Here was a young man trying to pay with heaps of change and she couldn't help but see the humor in it. Though she was usually warm and friendly, she had never been one for tact.
Edith met her husbands disapproving frown with a playful smile. She listened as he tried to fix the situation by volunteering her car. Normally she would have protested, but she wasn't really against a trip to the grocery store. She let out a sigh, though, and gave one simple nod. "Yeah, yeah, that's fine. I got a good coupon for hot pockets and I should probably get some potatoes for dinner. But…" Edith nudged Harold's arm. "You're comin', too. I'm not letting you stay here by yourself with a broken hip." She didn't want him trying to overexert himself with his injury. |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 14, 2013 19:25:44 GMT -8
Donovan opened his mouth to protest, offer to go on his own despite not knowing what a Coinstar was, but apparently he had very little say in the matter as the conversation progressed without him. Even if the supermarket wasn't that far away, it seemed far more time and trouble to take him than just counting out the coins would be. The suggestion was met with a confused frown, expecting the wife to be the reasonable one to shoot down the idea without him having to speak up. Surely she had better things to do than drive him around. But apparently their aversion to change was strong, or at least the chance to get potatoes was stronger.
Donovan began recollecting the stacks of pennies from the counter, trying not to make too much noise as he dropped them back into the front zipper pocket. Despite the trouble he unintentionally caused them, they were being kind in a roundabout sort of way, and Donovan wasn't going to deny company to the elderly. They were typically fairly easy to get along with, and perhaps it would be a good way to keep himself occupied while his roommate took some time to cool off.
"A broken hip?" Donovan questioned with a bit of a worried glance at Harold, not seeing how the solution of going to the supermarket was any better than sitting around. Weren't you supposed to be immobile as possible with broken bones? "Are you sure that's okay? I really could just go by myself," he finally suggested.
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Jan 4, 2014 22:44:05 GMT -8
”Edie,” Harold started in protest, intending to sound stern, but it likely came out as more of a whine, like a kid trying to get out of class. He turned to the questioning Donovan to clear up the misinformation. ”Recovering. I’m recovering from a broken hip. She’s just being… Eh.”
‘Eh,’ because he didn’t want to call her fussy when she was standing right there. That, and she was trying to look out for him, even if he felt like it was a bit much. He could sit and mind the shop well enough, he should think! At this rate, though, there was no stopping her. She’d agreed and outlined a plan. She had multiple goals to accomplish, now. The game was afoot. Harold sighed and slipped out of his stool, grabbing up his cane and beginning the semi-shuffle around the counter.
”We aren’t parked too far away. We have a handicapped sticker, now.” And they intended to milk that for all it was worth. It was pretty convenient, considering the many difficult parking situations in such a populated place. Harold went for the door, gesturing for Donovan to move along with him, while Edith got her purse-and-key-related affairs in order. ”And here I figured it was gonna be a boring day…”
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Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Jan 9, 2014 4:44:44 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 21st
tag | Harold & Don
words | 288 | As fussy as Edith may have been, she was also more bull-headed than something that was slightly less bull-headed. Any protest that came from her husband was met with an unfaltering smile that wordlessly spoke how he had no choice. she only let out a considerably more subdued giggle at his eh and then went to fetch her purse and keys. She never thought that she would need a handicapped sticker until they were at least in their mid-seventies, but now that they had on she couldn’t complain. Being able to park right in front where she could keep a close eye on her baby (aka car)? That was a joy.
She locked the office door behind her and went along with the two men through the door. She linked her arm with her husband’s both out of affection and to give him more stability in his steps. There was thankfully no rush assuming that their tag-a-long without a choice had nowhere important to be that he was too polite to mention. There was her lovely green car soon enough. Her key was ready for the door.
“Alright, get in, nerds, we’re going shopping,” she declared before giving them both a warm smile. She waited patiently for them both to obey, not helping her husband much more than she already had to make sure he still felt independent. Today was apparently a day full of teasing, but it was nice to get out of the shop every now and then. Plus, this was a productive journey for the older couple as well as the poor young man they were now pulling along.
Whenever the others made their way into the car, they would be ready to go. |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Jan 10, 2014 7:15:56 GMT -8
 HOLD YOUR BREATH AND COUNT TO TEN A trip to the store usually fell into the category of typical things that happened during just another boring day (or used to be, before that robbery that ended up with him covered in somebody else's blood) that Donovan couldn't quite tell if Harold's comment was sarcasm or if the man had been sitting around too much lately that his standards of exciting were severely skewed. But he supposed with a broken hip, it was quite likely any chance to get out and moving again would be welcomed, and he couldn't fault the man for that. Donovan began to wonder if he was less the cause of problem and more the excuse that happened to stumble in at the right time. Almost a victim of circumstance, though victim was hardly the right choice of words. Maybe this wouldn't be as quick as he hoped, but probably painless. Not wanting to be insulting to the man's pride, he tried not to worry too much as they went out to the parking. At least his wife was helping him along without any problem, which was sweet enough to witness. In the limited circle of people he knew, there weren't any happy couples that it was difficult to remember love actually existed and endured. Maybe it'd be good for him to be around them for a bit. Donovan hesitated to allow himself into the back seat, not his typical mode of transportation. Nerd seemed an odd term to be called when he didn't even own a computer, but Donovan didn't bother correcting Edith, doubting she actually meant anything by it anyway. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been in a car, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle despite the trip not being all that long. And the drive was as quick as expected and uneventful, Donovan quietly staring out the window until Edith claimed a handicapped spot right at the front. He hovered near Harold's door as the man got out, offering an arm just in case he had difficulties standing. WORDS:339 TAGS:Harold & Edith NOTES:
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Jan 12, 2014 7:54:26 GMT -8
"No need for name-calling," Harold chided, somewhere between playful and genuinely clipped, a delicate balance that came of years of good practice. He waited until the kid was settled in the backseat before getting in himself, sparing a moment of thought to be fascinated that he was going along with all of this. Apparently, Harold and his wife were capable of more sway over others than he would've guessed.
There wasn't much need or time for conversation during the drive. Harold opened up the glove-box to find his glasses-cleaning cloth, one of many that he had hidden here and there among their possessions. He'd just accomplished smudge-and-spec free lenses by the time they pulled into the grocery store's parking lot. He didn't miss Donovan's offered arm, and he frowned briefly before taking it anyway, hoisting himself out of the passenger seat. He let go once he was upright and steadied, reaching over to swing the heavy car door shut.
As he made his way around the car, it occurred to him that he hadn't gotten around to any sort of introduction. It might be assumable that they were the Herschels, of course, and he'd said Edith's name out loud (Well, Edie. Close enough.), but he hadn't mentioned his name nor gotten the young man's. Probably wouldn't do. He wrinkled his nose and broke the quiet that had fallen over their group. "I'm Harold, by the way. My wife's Edith. We're the Herschels."
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Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Jan 15, 2014 6:32:25 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 21st
tag | Harold & Don
words | 287 | The trip to the grocery store was quick and smooth. Her car was technically an antique, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t have it running better than a new car. While some found driving to be a chore, Edith always found it a joy to take a spin. She was content even if it was just a quick errand to the bank. She found their place right up front, still so happy to abuse their handicap sticker. Not that it was really abuse when her poor husband needed it.
Edith watched as the young man helped Harold out of the car, and then as Harold straightened his posture without assistance. “A lot of my friend’s call me Edie, but you should call me Mrs. Herschel,” she added with a cheeky grin, not really meaning the statement so much as she wanted to see how much this boy would comply. At the rate she had been going with her recent encounters with those younger than her, he would likely do as told.
Rather than take Harold’s arm again herself, she just took some slow steps beside him as she dug her coupon book out of her purse. “So, coinstar first since it’s by the door. Let’s just grab a few things and get out quick.” Her small list of potatoes and hot pockets had slowly been growing in their idle time. Already she was flipping through other coupons for lunch meats and laundry detergents.
The Coinstar machine as right by the door, just as she said. She motioned for Donovan to go up to it. “Okay, this is easy. Hit start and the button for a voucher. Then dump your coins into that tray.” |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Jan 16, 2014 4:15:32 GMT -8
HOLD YOUR BREATH AND COUNT TO TEN Calling the woman the nickname used by her husband and friends implied a presumptuous familiarity that Donovan was more than glad to avoid. "Nice to meet you... Mrs. and Mr. Herschel," he remembered his manners, realizing he rarely had reason to exchange names with most people that he hadn't even noticed it had been missing from the exchange. Donovan wasn't particularly good at remembering names, anyway, usually avoiding addressing anybody by them to hide that fact. A shared last name between the couple made it a bit easier for him, at least, but at this point he didn't see any necessary future reference that would require it. He was sure it was mutual, but gave his name out of politeness anyway. "I'm Donovan. Just Donovan. Nobody calls me Mr. Shepherd." He definitely hoped he'd never have to respond to such. Donovan wasn't too much of a hurried walker, patiently dragging his own feet as Harold took as much time as he needed to get inside. He would have offered to grab a basket for them at the entrance, suspecting they wouldn't need a cart since Edith only mentioned needing a few things, but the challenge of the Coinstar awaited him first. Donovan regarded the machine with thinly veiled suspicion, approaching it and hesitantly jabbing the button as if expecting it to start beeping demandingly at him like the ATM always did. Emptying his coins into the tray was a noisy process, but if anything Donovan was appreciative that his bag was much lighter once they were gone. WORDS:257 TAGS:Harold NOTES:
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Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Feb 4, 2014 6:06:54 GMT -8
Harold didn't have much to contribute to the CoinStar process. It was a simple enough device, after all, and Edith's instructions had essentially covered everything. One button, and the kid was on his way to a more practical-to-carry batch of money. He remained close-by to watch the process, even if he had nothing to say about it. It was part curiosity about exactly how many pennies had been in that backpack and part expectation that something was going to go wrong. Something about this whole, odd situation had led Harold to assume the boy particularly prone to bad luck, and they'd been the ones to drag him into this leg of it. They'd have to help fix anything that arose, however minor.
Things rounded up smoothly enough, though. As the clinking of the coins into the machine slowed and stopped, Harold turned away. He muttered to Edith, "I'm going to get a cart." He figured they were going to need it. She'd kept pulling selections from her coupon book, after all.
He didn't hurry, of course, walking back to the store's entrance and rolling back again behind the unreliable wheels of a grocery cart. "You got it? We ready to do this?"
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Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Feb 11, 2014 5:19:16 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 21st
tag | Harold & Don
words | 195 | By the end of the coin counting, Edith had pulled a surprising number of coupons from her purse. They came in all amounts and varieties. Meats, vegetables, snacks, drinks, etc.. Edith knew that she was letting herself get carried away, but that was tossed away by her with the logic that there was no since in doing in two trips what she could do in one. They had a big freezer to keep anything they weren’t eating right away.
Harold was given a nod when he left for the cart, her hand full of the paper slips, a few even tucked into the sides of her mouth as she sorted through them. She was quick and methodical in her organization that didn’t actually have any solid rhyme or reason. She just had the order she wanted them in. “Alright, cutie, you get that slip of paper the machine gives you and follow us. Gotta be quick about this if we don’t wanna be here all day,” she called to Donovan. Then she stepped to her husband’s side and handed him a few of the coupons.
“We’re gonna start in the bread aisle, okay?”
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electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Feb 13, 2014 4:20:05 GMT -8
HOLD YOUR BREATH AND COUNT TO TEN For all that effort and noise, the total printed on his slip of paper wasn't all that impressive. But it was all he had, and Donovan folded it to tuck safely into his pocket. At least it was enough for his purchase at the candy shop though little else, if they ever managed their way back or he didn't find some means of escape before then. The number of coupons the woman was pulling out was almost alarming, his estimation for how long this would take growing. He never bothered with coupons himself, didn't subscribe to any newspapers and always figured the savings were minimal enough that it wasn't worth the effort of obtaining and keeping track of them. Everybody needed a hobby, he guessed, didn't know much of what else older women got up to. Not sure how much help he could be now that all he needed was finished up, Donovan stepped away from the machine to hover awkwardly next to Harold. Almost offering to push the cart, he instead figured it might be good for the recovering older man to prop himself against if he got too strained by the walking. Until it got too heavy, and that might not take too long if the coupons were any indication of how much Mrs. Herschel was intending to purchase. Starting at the bread section. Donovan's eyes scanned the numerous grocery aisles that stretched from one end of the store to the other, imagining how many stops they'd make in between. "Is there anything you'd like me to pick up from the other side?" WORDS:### TAGS:Adorable Old People NOTES:
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