[Rok and I have opened the bar store early in preparation for LUEY Weekend. We’re bustling about when a customer slinks in, places his elbows on the counter, rests his chin on his hands and regards us dolefully.]
Me: “Hello!”
Rok: “Welcome!”
Customer: [limpid gaze]
Me: “…”
Rok: “…”
Customer: “Do you have a large?”
Me: “…”
Rok: “…”
Customer: [limpid gaze]
Me and Rok: [in unison] “A LARGE WHAT?!”
Customer: “Shirt.”
Not a specific T-shirt or leather tunic, mind you: just… y’know… “shirt” as an archetype. Rok can normally keep himself composed when facing even our most abrasive customers, but I honestly kind of thought he was going to punch the guy.
Okay, I kind of hoped he was going to punch the guy.
Fine, I prayed for him to punch the guy. But he never did.
Conclusion: Rok is abysmal at answering prayers. I will be taking my future requests for prompt succor elsewhere.
Marjorie's Forgeries 
I would say something snarky, but I am totally the asshole who, when asked what I want to eat, regularly replies with, “Food.”
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You are the bane of my existence. 😀
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Glad to be of service! *bows deeply*
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maybe Rok mentally punched the guy. you know, a mind punch. It’s less obvious, but can still be quite effective. May Rok is secretly psionic this whole time.
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