Mainland, Walking To a Music Store, Saturday Afternoon (NFB-Distance)

[onapalebicycle]

"We don't have to do this," George said. Heplfully. For what was possibly the tenth time.

"Sure, I have a job, but I'm a minimum-wage slave making Squishies. I won't be able to pay you back for ... weeks. If not months

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[furnaceface]

//And I'm certain that in that amount of time, I'll manage to starve to death,// Jono replied, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way down the street.

Honestly now, George. He smelled blood in the water. You should have known that a guy who played guitar that well was going to shamelessly enable you once you'd mentioned you had an interest in drumming.

[onapalebicycle]

"Not the point," George snapped. "I'm gong to have all this debt hanging over my head and not be able to buy anything else I need. This is a stupid idea."

She wasn't stalling. Pfft. She was just being reasonable about this. Seriously.

[furnaceface]

She was attempting to stall in the face of a professional procrastinator. She didn't stand a chance.

//You honestly take me for th'sort of bloke who would deny you th'right to buy the necessities because you owe me a few hundred dollars for a drum set, George?//

[onapalebicycle]

"No," George grumbled. "But if I only pay it off a little at a time, then it's never going to be finished. And it's not a good investment anyway. I'll play them two or three times, get frustrated, give up, and never touch them again."

This was a serious concern. George was a grand-high master of quitting.