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”We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” — Dr. Seuss
‘’Why didn’t a minute have 10 seconds instead of 60?'' wondered Mr Philcock as he watched the clock with drowsy eyes. It was quarter to 5pm , the time when the Manchester branch of Cox & Sons would close on Saturdays. 5 pm it seemed could never come fast enough. The 15 minutes seemed to stretch forever it seemed. With a weary sigh, Mr Philcock sat back, and waited. Being one of the largest pharmaceutical distributors of Britain, there was no way Cox & Sons couldn’t have adopted some of the new fangled technology and developed an app? That way its old employees well on their way towards retirement wouldn’t have to keep up shop on such a lovely Saturday evening.
He groaned in disappointment when the door of the shop was pushed open. A new customer , to entertain at this hour? Goodness gracious!
An indignant ‘We are almost closed’ rose to his lips. And died before he could even utter them, as he saw a pale, lanky, ridiculously tall, young man with a thin pale face and mild blue eyes ( a boy really, because no way was the youth before him a day over twenty two) stumble into the shop. Before entering he held up two fingers to someone outside nearby - a gesture to wait.
The boy seemed of a nervous disposition, wrangling his hands, as he took tentative steps into the shop. The huge blue eyes framed behind glasses, were apologetic , as if he knew that he inconveniencing an elderly shopkeeper by appearing when the shop was about to close.
It was impossible to be curt with this boy, who with his large wistful eyes and somewhat prominent ears, reminded him of a woodland animal, more precisely that animated fawn Bambi which his grandson couldn’t get enough of. Mr Philcock swallowed his curt words and forced the trademark courteous smile on his face. ‘’How can I help you ?’’ He inquired mildly.
The boy, shifted awkwardly, his eyes wandering to every nook and corner of the shop. He mumbled something incoherent , his cheeks going red. In another time it might have been amusing to see how the pale, almost translucent skin of his cheeks and ears splotched with patches of red. However Mr Philcock had no time for such trivialities. It was not that he didn’t know how to handle uncertain or indecisive customers but now he was on the fag end of his patience.
‘’Was there something you needed lad?’’ he inquired, his tone still civil, still deceptively mild, but a lot more firmer than before.
The boy in front of him looked more like a deer caught in headlights than ever. Blushing profusely he pointed to the rather colorful section of the shop which held a wide array of condoms and lubricant. ‘’Ah, so that explains the embarrassment’’ thought Mr Philcock as he proceeded towards the section the youth was pointing at. Young un, probably couldn’t wait to get intimate with his girlfriend.
He glanced at the now mortified youth who was now staring pointedly at his mismatched socks, and untied trainers . Apparently he was in such a tearing hurry to get the provisions, wondered Philcock with a note of amusement, that he had even neglected to match up his socks and actually tie his shoes.
Clearing his throat, he asked ‘’Which type of condom would you prefer? Depending on the length, width and girth, we have condoms in three types of fit – regular fit, snug fit and larger fit. ‘’
‘’L….large one..I think?’’ The youth stammered.
‘’Very well. You can choose between a wide variety of options such as plain classic, ribbed, vegan..... Philcock had went through his usual routine, demonstrating the benefits each condom gave to the user, pointedly ignoring how the blushing boy in front of him was trying to remain nonchalant, and disguise the eagerness in his eyes.
In the end the boy had gone for a ribbed, silicone based, lubricated condom with a reservoir tip.
Next, the youth still not meeting his eyes, had inquired for a quality lube. Mr Philcock sighed, glancing at the clock – a quarter past five . Looked like there was no way this would be ending before 6 pm. With a weary sigh he gestured to the drawer displaying the lubricants.
‘’Lubricants are available in 6 different flavors, chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, cherry-''
He was interrupted as the shop door was pushed open again. Mr Philcock mentally cursed his stars once more. He was so going to demand overtime for today!
“Honestly Phil- whined the newcomer in a high pitched petulant voice, that simply grated on Mr. Philcock's nerves, “when you said you would be back in just two minutes, I didn’t think that would extend to almost half an hour! It’s too cold outside, so I couldn’t wait!”
The boy in front of him rolled his eyes fondly. His face now broke into a full fledged, shit eating grin which made his eyes crinkle, as he turned his head to greet the newcomer, another freakishly tall, brown haired, sweet faced, dainty looking boy, barely past his adolescence, wearing a weirdly shaped, tan colored, long headgear with an engraved camel on top.
Mr. Philcock watched fascinatingly as the the face of the timid boy in front of him, went through kaleidoscope of emotions. It was as if an invisible maestro was creating a masterpiece on a blank canvas . A huge spectrum of emotions went through his face from awe, to plain old adoration, as the new boy approached the counter. It was as if the new boy was the sun , and the other was a sunflower, blindly turning to the sun, trying to absorb it’s rays as much as it could.
It reminded him of that time, many years back, when he came across the girl who would later go on to become his wife at a dance. She had been clad in a plain, pastel colored frock, dancing awkwardly, but to the 25 year old Marcus Philcock, she’d been the sun itself.
It suddenly felt quite invasive to watch. Most likely the boy – Phil was not even aware how obvious he was being. So he cleared his throat.
Phil broke out of his trance and pointed to the cherry flavored lube, indicating his choice.
‘’Would you like your purchases packed? It would cost you just 4 pounds and you can choose your package.’’
The boys nodded enthusiastically and went on to choose a Death-Note themed package. As their purchases were being packed, the boys sat down, on the sofa, not looking at each other, but with barely concealed, giddy smiles and rather prominent blushes on their faces, as only two people stupidly in love can look.
‘’Have you finished packing Hamilton?’’ Mr. Philcock urged his assistant.
‘’Yes, Mr Philcock, here you are.’’
‘’That will be 15 pounds -
Before he could finish, Mr Philcock, was interrupted by a loud guffaw. The brown haired, younger boy was clutching at his stomach, dissolving into helpless giggles, while Phil stood there his face an interesting study in purple, as he grumbled a feeble ‘’Shut up Dan. ‘’
It was not long before the boys were preparing to leave. Before they left, however the now sniggering boy Dan, evaded the other boy’s attempt to shush him up, and said ‘’Have a nice Sunday, Mr Philcock!’’ with an impish, knowing smirk on his face, ignoring the way his companion had covered his face in mortification. Phil had probably cuffed him in retaliation, once they were out of sight as Mr Philcock could hear a distinct ‘’Oi that hurt you twat!’’ from Dan.
Mr Philcock, shook his head, amused at their antics. He was getting ready to pack his own stuff and wrap up for the day, when he heard the rumble of an engine, and a shrill ‘’ Jeez, am falling off, slow down you spork!’’ from Dan.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Philcock had hurried to the window. Phil had started his motorbike – a rusty, ancient thing that had seen better days. Dan who was sitting behind Phil sideways, had most likely lost his balance, and was now clutching on to Phil’s shoulder for dear life, in order not to lose ground.
‘’Give a man a warning would you,’’ Dan grumbled.
‘’None of this could have happened, if you sat in the proper way,’’ Phil said, his lips quirking into a smirk.
Dan suddenly became contemplative, then smiled impishly, looking rather like the Cheshire cat. With the sleek, liquid, grace of a feline, he seated himself closely, behind Phil, and wrapped his long, wiry arms around Phil’s torso, one embracing his waist and one, sneaking up his jacket, playing with the buttons. Carefully placing his chin on the juncture of Phil’s shoulder, he muttered , ‘’Happy, you spoon?’’
Phil with his bashful yet proud smile, very much looked like a little boy who got all the candy he had ever wished for. Philcock felt absolutely horrible for witnessing such an intimate scene, but for some reason, couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Dan leaned in to whisper something in this ear, whatever it had been, it made Phil's eyes widen in shock, his breath hitch, and his blush return with full force. They had taken off after that.
Philcock, watched as the duo sped away into the sunset.
‘’Ah young love…..nothing like it!’’ he sighed with satisfaction. He glanced at his clock – it was a quarter to 6. He had overstayed his duty by almost an hour today.
But he couldn’t bring himself to care.