fandomtownies | The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

It was only two more days until Valentine's Day, and Jeff was frozen. Completely and utterly frozen with complete and utter fear of the kind he'd never known before.

While Gunther raged at him about something or other in the background, Jeff was a Zen ground of fear. He simply stared at the phone as the seconds, minutes and hours ticked by, desperately trying to figure out what the proper quantity of flowers given to a woman on Valentine's Day was supposed to be.

And if he was supposed to know what Turtle had planned. That was a particularly bad one.

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As always, you're at the mercy of the German chef.

If you can get through to him at all.

Hoshi dropped by to talk to Jeff since she'd been meaning to apologize for kissing Turtle. "Hi," she said shyly. "How's it going?"

A familiar female voice registered. Jeff's head shot up. "You're a woman!" he proclaimed, in full-borne panic, "You have to tell me!"

"Tell you?" asked Hoshi, feeling panicky as well. "I don't know why I did it, but I'm really sorry, Jeff."

"...What?" And then there was a very obvious absence of a pause as Jeff's mind discarded this as completely irrelevant information, and the floodgates keeping his mind from seeping into his throat slammed open completely. "How many flowers do you give a woman without overflowering? Obviously one is right out, but could I order a hundred without having to deal with potentially threatening space issues? And what about chocolates? Women like chocolates, right? But what if you've recently done up somewhat of an aversion to chocolate and you can't get near any because every time you do, you hear sheep bleating and midgets screaming in terror?"

There was a slight breathing pause, "And arrangements-- she hasn't told me what she's planning to do but I know she's planning something. Does that mean she expects me to know? Women always expect you to know things, except for when they don't, and I always attempt to know things when I shouldn't and I don't want to overdo the knowing, you know?"

He shot Hoshi an utterly panicked look, "And the dance! What sort of dance does she expect me to exhibit? Should I get out the Arachnid Boy one for this occasion, or is it better to play it safe with the Gull or the Seamonster? Should I sleep in her room, or should she sleep in mine, or should there be an absence of sleeping in possibly lethal areas?"

He stopped talking mostly because he was now hyperventilating.

"Whoa," mumbled Hoshi, wondering where to start. "Um, with flowers I'd go with a dozen. If you have an aversion to chocolate, go down to Turtle & Canary, buy a box of chocolate and have Apu wrap it and leave it there for her to pick up. That way, it looks like you're thinking of her even when you're not together. If she's made arrangements, it up to her to tell you because she doesn't expect you to guess. And..."

By this point Hoshi was out of breath. "What else did you need to know?"

Jeff didn't reply. He was slightly too busy breathing in ways that were far faster than any human being should safely exhibit and staring at the door with something that only could be described as pure and utter terror.

It took him about a minute before he fully recovered enough to say, "...and what about spots?"

Hoshi was puzzled. "What spots?" she asked. "You weren't staring directly at the lights, were you?"

"Women like it when you..." Jeff made a vague and nigh-uncomprehensible gesture that was somehow supposed to communicate clothing (or maybe just a blob attacking a taxi cab), "Match," he managed to wrench out. "I don't know how to have opinions about that kind of thing. Should I wear a lot of spots?"

Hoshi wondered if Fandom needed to offer a class on fashion for people like Jeff and Jack. She decided to give him the same advice she gave Jack last night. "I wouldn't wear spots. You know, you could always go to Pixie Dust and their staff could help you find something nice to wear," she said.

Again, Jeff didn't say anything. He just shot her a look which communicated the fullness of his panic and the fact that really, if he went into a clothing store with hair like his and rambling before Valentine's Day the results might be disastrous and someone would end up getting pictured in their underwear.

Sometimes, his face was very communicative. He hyperventilated a little again, just for emphasis.

It took a moment, but Hoshi realized her mistake. "Of course, um, I could always go in and pick something out for you," she quickly added.

Jeff nodded, helplessly. And then finally managed to dig up one, horribly desperate-sounding phrase. "Could you?"

"Sure. It wouldn't be a problem. I had to go there anyway," said Hoshi.

"Okay," Jeff said, very, very meekly. He sank back a little behind the desk. "Thanks," he continued, his voice now very solid, in-control and rational, before getting up out of his chair and rushing for the toilet.

Now Hoshi knew she definitely wouldn't be staying for lunch, no matter what Gunther whipped up. "I'll just, um, watch the desk for you," she yelled after Jeff.

For all your hotel needs that don't involve dealing with the scarier staff of the hotel.

Well, except for the dog.

Mmmm cherries.

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

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OOC