Who finds the money when you pay the rent? [Open]
Who: whatsolarsystem and YOU!
What: Sherlock goes grocery shopping. Would anyone like to bother him?
When: Any time during normal shopping hours?
Where: In one of the Thor's many prominent grocery stores. Or something.
Warnings: It's Sherlock; warnings of snark apply. Also slightly ridiculous shopping habits. I started off with prose, but you can choose the style!
Sherlock Holmes, formerly of 221b Baker Street in London, is being swiftly reminded of why he never enjoyed doing the shopping.
Like a good many other things, the process was tedious and dull and mind-numbing and he'd much rather be doing something else than wasting his time with so-called necessities. Still, necessities they were, not much unlike the repetitive nature of say, breathing. (Breathing was boring, too, he once told John.)
Sherlock had not too long ago fallen into the habit of letting John do all the grocery shopping; this became a little more difficult with his arrival on the Thor, given their conflicting "work" schedules and his friend's recently generally exhausted nature.
Thus the consulting detective finds himself wandering down one of the aisles (such a mundane task), glancing at all the available product. He had already picked up milk, which sits in his cart.
Actually, he had picked out five different kinds of milk. Whole, two percent, chocolate, skim, soy. It was rather boring thinking about which one he really needed, and when faced with the choices he found himself rolling his eyes. Sherlock was in no mood to make a return trip if he bought the wrong thing.
Therefore one might as well buy all the options presented and save one the trip.
Logical choice, really.
What: Sherlock goes grocery shopping. Would anyone like to bother him?
When: Any time during normal shopping hours?
Where: In one of the Thor's many prominent grocery stores. Or something.
Warnings: It's Sherlock; warnings of snark apply. Also slightly ridiculous shopping habits. I started off with prose, but you can choose the style!
Sherlock Holmes, formerly of 221b Baker Street in London, is being swiftly reminded of why he never enjoyed doing the shopping.
Like a good many other things, the process was tedious and dull and mind-numbing and he'd much rather be doing something else than wasting his time with so-called necessities. Still, necessities they were, not much unlike the repetitive nature of say, breathing. (Breathing was boring, too, he once told John.)
Sherlock had not too long ago fallen into the habit of letting John do all the grocery shopping; this became a little more difficult with his arrival on the Thor, given their conflicting "work" schedules and his friend's recently generally exhausted nature.
Thus the consulting detective finds himself wandering down one of the aisles (such a mundane task), glancing at all the available product. He had already picked up milk, which sits in his cart.
Actually, he had picked out five different kinds of milk. Whole, two percent, chocolate, skim, soy. It was rather boring thinking about which one he really needed, and when faced with the choices he found himself rolling his eyes. Sherlock was in no mood to make a return trip if he bought the wrong thing.
Therefore one might as well buy all the options presented and save one the trip.
Logical choice, really.