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Dite's Decadent Delights [Wednesday afternoon]

So. When one owned a sex shop, and there was a sudden influx of amorousness, one clearly needed to capitalize on it. And Irene, truly, had been remiss -- between her cold and the blizzard and Valentine's Day and class, she hadn't even gotten in to put a sign in the window to capitalize on it.

She had also been busy with other things, to be fair. Including, but not limited to: writing flirtatious texts, deleting them, creepily perusing the staff directory to see who was cute and possibly single (don't you bloody judge her), trying to figure out how Tinder worked, irritably throwing her phone across the room, and purchasing a new phone this morning.

She was a busy lady, okay?

In any case, she was in today and determined to keep her mind on the accounting and inventory sheets she had in front of her. She'd put a sign in the window after a bit of deliberation:

BUY ONE, GET ONE 50% OFF ALL MERCHANDISE.
Because God knows you can probably use more than one of whatever it is, this week

She would've put something more clever, but succinct and to-the-point seemed like a better course of action, just today.

[open and OCD-free! I'm my usual SPish until about 6:30 EST tonight.]

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A good sale was a good sale. Abbi may have been broke, but she wasn't stupid.

"Hello there," she said primly as she stepped up to the counter with two generously sized dildos in hand. Seriously, they were big. "You have a lovely store."

"Thank you," Irene said, glancing up with a smile. And here she'd just been sitting here thinking how much she wished an attractive brunette would just wander in off the street.

(Irene was going to have to start making wishes on the regular if the answers to them just started walking into her store like this. Maybe she could have the entire Stella McCartney spring line while she was at it, whoever was just granting wishes out there?)

"Did you find everything okay?" Those were rather substantial selections, and Irene suspected that was intentional, but she figured she ought to check that she hadn't been looking for something smaller and been unable to locate it.

"Yeah, the way you have things organized is really clear," Abbi assured her. She explained helpfully, "I've got a preferred brand, so I'm an easy customer."

That was a bit of an overshare, and it showed on her face that she hadn't quite meant to be quite so straightforward. She decided to say something else, so that first thing wouldn't just be hanging in the air like that. "You know, I hope this isn't offensive but I really didn't think there would be a sex toy shop in a little town like this."

"So you are new," Irene said, crooking a smile at her. "And here I was trying to decide whether or not to ask, since I'd feel like an absolute idiot if you've been here for months -- though I like to think I'm a touch more observant than that, particularly with beautiful women."

Irene was usually more subtle, but this week was casting her little dry spell in an awfully harsh light, so to speak.

"I'm Irene," she added, offering a hand to shake. "Welcome. And you're not offensive in the slightest, darling -- we're a touch out of place in a cute little town like this. Helps that there's loads of randy teenagers about to keep me in business, though."

"Ew," Abbi muttered quietly as the idea of horny teenagers really sunk in. That warranted a slight shudder.

"Well, I appreciate your service," she said with an exaggerated wave of one hand. "I've always considered sex toy salesperson to be one of the noblest professions, right after veterinarians and religious leaders and all that."

"It's not my chosen field," Irene admitted. "I rather fell into it. But if you want to consider me the patron saint of dildos, or something, I'm happy to serve."

And there, she was going to actually toss off a little salute for you there, Abbi.

"You know what, that's probably how I'm gonna remember you," Abbi admitted. "For better or for worse, you're gonna be, like, the dildo supplier in my mind now. How'd you get into the business?"

Kitty had sort of wandered in just to see if there was anything that, um, might get some use later- you picked an awesome girlfriend, Clint!- and about two seconds in said, "This was a mistake."

"You look pretty today," Irene greeted her.

Yeah, 'mistake' was probably accurate, for a number of reasons.

"You are so not allowed to flatter me this week," Kitty blushed. "...And you always look pretty, so."

Ah, the perils of having female friends that could so go slashy. That should be the title of Kitty's autobiography, really.

"I'll flatter you whenever I feel like it, thank you very much," Irene told her with a broad smile, because blushing was always a good reaction.

Ugh, this week was the worst.

"I'm surprised to see you out, honestly," she added, because she was respectful of boundaries. Particularly boundaries with nice arms, sigh, Kitty, you and your adorable boyfriend. "Figured you'd be...busy."

"Um. Breaks are sort of necessary sometimes," Kitty admitted. "And there are dogs to be taken care of, and things to do, and also I booty called him from work last night so busy is still happening."

"Looking to pick up something fun?" Irene teased, wandering over. "I'm sure the monotony of constant awesome sex must be wearing on you."

Jealous? Nope. No one here was jealous.

"Well, it's not monotony..." she said, and there was the blushing again. "Just thought, you know, maybe I'd come back home with a surprise."

"It's a good week for surprises," Irene assured her. "Better than most, I'd imagine."

For the people getting laid. No seriously, Irene was happy for all of you and all, but she'd never had a dry spell coupled with this kind of -- lack of desire for a dry spell.

"Anything in particular? Something for him, something for you, something for everyone...?"

"I'm not actually sure," Kitty admitted, glancing around. "I thought I'd look around till something jumped out at me- not literally, um- but even the terrifying stuff doesn't look so bad. That's scary."

"I could show you how to use it, if you're curious," Irene offered, glancing over at the terrifying stuff. It wasn't so terrifying to her, after all.

And really, what could go wrong with her teaching Kitty how to use a whip or something this week? Irene thought it was a fabulous idea.

And now there were all sorts of Thoughts running through Kitty's brain. Thanks, Irene!

"Uh. I can't see that ending well," she said honestly.

"Me neither," Irene replied cheerfully. "Figured it was worth a shot anyway."

At least she was honest.

"But if you wanted to learn to use the terrifying stuff during a week where we're not all rampantly dying to get our clothes off, I can do that." It still probably wasn't going to end well, but at least Irene wouldn't be actively hitting on you, Kitty! "Okay, so let's veer a little less terrifying, and find you something that you can leave with without needing training."

"Yes, please. Because training sounds a little..." Headmaster and schoolgirl-y? "Hi, my name's Kitty and my brain never leaves the gutter anymore."

"If it makes you feel better," Irene assured her, "mine's even more gutter-y than usual. Has this -- " She gestured vaguely to the air, "happened before?"

Maybe there was a precedent, which at least would mean that at some point it would end, and Irene would stop feeling like she was fifteen and had a crush on eeeeeevery girl. (Let's be honest -- at this point, the boys were starting to look pretty good, too.)

"Yep. This is my... fourth time going through it?" Kitty said, thinking back. "How're you handling it?"

"I broke my phone this morning by throwing it across the room out of frustration," Irene said succinctly. "So, poorly. It does wear off, then?"

"Oh, honey," Kitty said sympathetically. "Yeah, it wears off. It takes about a week, usually, so there's probably only a couple days left. Though one time we ended up getting those kids right afterwards..."

"That's not even funny," Irene told her, immediately looking even more distressed.

"It's really not," Kitty agreed. "Last time it lasted into Parents' Weekend. Even less funny."

"...that would actually work out really well for me," Irene noted thoughtfully. "The kids, not so much. Though I'm sure that the students didn't love the whole Parents' Weekend thing, all things considered."

They didn't have their ex-whatevers showing up for it, usually, after all.

"It had the potential for awkwardness," Kitty said. "Like the first time I met Clint's brother was like 'he's kind of cute, please don't let him hit on me.' I can just imagine if it was like, your parent who doesn't know how weird this town is."

"Oh, weird," Irene said sympathetically. "...wait, were they affected, too? Just by virtue of arriving?"

Because dear god.

"Well, this is I guess some airborne pollen thing, so if they're around it..." Kitty said. "I was just glad I didn't have to listen to radio and hear about my friend from home getting it."

"Oh, pollen," Irene said, eyes wide. "I don't know that I knew what was causing it but that makes so much sense. And considering my Parents' Weekend was partially spent telling parents that I taught 'health,' and so on -- that probably would've been pretty bad."

Although seriously, Sherlock on sex pollen might have been one of the best things imaginable.

"Parent teacher meetings could have been way more interesting," Kitty pointed out. "'Sure, you heard about all the dirty stuff Junior got up to last night on radio, but at least he's safe thanks to me, and has anyone told you you look too young and hot to be a mom?'"

"I do sort of feel obligated, as the former sex teacher, to just run up to the dorms and throw condoms around the hallways," Irene admitted. "Just to be on the safe side. I only taught about twenty of them, but there's dozens who might've come from medieval France or something and don't know."

"You'd probably be their favorite teacher whether they had you or not," Kitty pointed out.

Not dirty. Because teacher.

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Dite's Decadent Delights [Wednesday afternoon]

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