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Alex cursed. Of all the things that could have happened, he just had to end up covered in stupid, historically inaccurate viking hats. Just his luck. He scowled. He shifted slightly, thinking that maybe he could fix the damn hats and be on his way.
One fell to the floor.
“Shit!”
Alex growled under his breath. So apparently he was stuck then. Fucking amusement park hat store with its fucking innacurate hats. Dammit.
Alex stood still and willed all the hats to vanish. Some magic or divine intervention would have been nice right about now. His dignity might have been spared.
Instead: “Help! Help!”
The clerk looked up from his phone and burst out laughing. Alex would have flicked the guy off, but that would have made more hats fall. Instead, Alex turned to gla — and oh, hey, the clerk was kind of cute.
Finally done laughing, the clerk walked over to him and picked the hat off the floor. “What happened? Seriously, I have only seen this happen to five-year-olds.”
Alex flared his nostrils. “Your dumb hats,” Alex looked at the guy’s nametag, “John. That’s what happened. Vikings didn’t wear the damn hats.”
John laughed again. “I tried telling them that. But Lee — the boss, that is — basically just said stereotypes are fun, the dick, and-”
There was a cough from behind them. John froze and blanched, freckles becoming even more pronounced.
“Sorry,” John said. He didn’t turn around to look at his boss. He took three of the hats off Alex and returned them to their precarious stack before doing the same to the other five.
“Laurens,” Lee snarled.
“Yes?” John asked innocently.
“Get the hell outta my shop.”
John nodded and walked over to the register and grabbed a black backpack off the floor. He made it to the door, still carrying the hat from the floor. He gestured to Alex. “Coming?”
Alex nodded. Once the pair was outside, John handed the hat to Alex. “For your troubles.”
“Did you seriously just ste—”
“Yep,” John agreed, popping the ‘p', “I did.”
“Wow,” Alex said, slow-clapping.
“Awesome, I know,” John agreed. “Look at it.”
Alex did. Coffee? — J. Laurens, (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.
Alex looked up and grinned. “Definitely.”