[ tim's by no means short-short, but the shelves at this bookstore go up particularly high, in some cases requiring a rolling ladder, but he always hates asking for one to be taken out. it makes him feel like he's frustrating the poor stock-clerks when he could be doing something better. he's about to resign to going home bookless when even after he's stood on the tiptoes he still can't reach, and then --
oh. he tries not to stare, more fascinated by the smooth texture of this man's tentacles than shocked or bothered. he gives a nervous laugh either way, because interaction with a stranger, one hand rubbing anxiously at the back of his own neck as the other reaches to take the book. ]
errands
oh. he tries not to stare, more fascinated by the smooth texture of this man's tentacles than shocked or bothered. he gives a nervous laugh either way, because interaction with a stranger, one hand rubbing anxiously at the back of his own neck as the other reaches to take the book. ]
Oh! Oh, uh -- thanks, man.