[and on the eighth day] god created rock 'n roll...
"Hi there! Can I help you find something today?"
Hank spun around at the unexpected male voice behind her, half-hoping by some weird twist of fate and the time/space continuum that it was Joe standing behind her. Instead, it was a drop dead gorgeous sales clerk with long blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Before Joe, she might have actually gotten worked up over him, but now she was fairly uninterested...not unaware of the hot factor, 'cause damn, but...
She had her proof positive that brunettes were way more fun.
"Thanks, but I'm just chillin'." she replied, even though she could tell the guy was looking for a longer conversation. She'd become more aware of that shit since New York...maybe it was the sex thing, or maybe Sass was just rubbing off on her, but she had a nose for it. When a guy was interested, when he was staring...when he was staring at her ass...
Veering away from thoughts of the one guy and the one ass she wanted to be near, she turned back to the wall of guitars and continued to stare at the Fender Stratocaster hanging just over her head with a thousand dollar price tag. It was a gorgeous guitar...classic looking, like an electric guitar ought to look, at least in her head. It wasn't like she knew much about them yet, but she knew Fender was good, and Stratocasters were classic...according to Sal and his buddy Ryder. She wanted something cool like the one he'd given her, but she knew that was expensive shit.
Then again, so was a thousand dollar instrument, but what the fuck...Christ, she needed a job.
With a wistful sigh, she stared at the pitiful purchase she had in hand, a lightning bolt guitar strap that she knew would look amazing on her signed Les Paul, and turned back to wander through the store in search of Amelia. She'd mentioned looking for a new package of picks, Hank just didn't know where the hell those were, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with the flirty sales clerk again...
Hank spun around at the unexpected male voice behind her, half-hoping by some weird twist of fate and the time/space continuum that it was Joe standing behind her. Instead, it was a drop dead gorgeous sales clerk with long blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Before Joe, she might have actually gotten worked up over him, but now she was fairly uninterested...not unaware of the hot factor, 'cause damn, but...
She had her proof positive that brunettes were way more fun.
"Thanks, but I'm just chillin'." she replied, even though she could tell the guy was looking for a longer conversation. She'd become more aware of that shit since New York...maybe it was the sex thing, or maybe Sass was just rubbing off on her, but she had a nose for it. When a guy was interested, when he was staring...when he was staring at her ass...
Veering away from thoughts of the one guy and the one ass she wanted to be near, she turned back to the wall of guitars and continued to stare at the Fender Stratocaster hanging just over her head with a thousand dollar price tag. It was a gorgeous guitar...classic looking, like an electric guitar ought to look, at least in her head. It wasn't like she knew much about them yet, but she knew Fender was good, and Stratocasters were classic...according to Sal and his buddy Ryder. She wanted something cool like the one he'd given her, but she knew that was expensive shit.
Then again, so was a thousand dollar instrument, but what the fuck...Christ, she needed a job.
With a wistful sigh, she stared at the pitiful purchase she had in hand, a lightning bolt guitar strap that she knew would look amazing on her signed Les Paul, and turned back to wander through the store in search of Amelia. She'd mentioned looking for a new package of picks, Hank just didn't know where the hell those were, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with the flirty sales clerk again...