Classy Dumpster Diving

Oh, he'd seen that flyer, and Sheridan was thrilled. A Renaissance Faire! He loved shit like that! As he strolled along the street, he reminisced about that one time in High School when he got to dress all fancy for their production of Once Upon a Mattress, and he accidentally ripped his cape during one of the shows. The director had been furious. Aaah, good times.

He was so ready to slap together a ridiculous costume for this occasion, hence why Recollectibles was the first place he was going to check out. Who knew what kinds of things those thrift stores had, especially one in a city as big as this? Humming "In a Little While" to himself as he rounded the corner, he entered the thrift shop and took it all in.

It was a lot bigger than he had expected! But as expected, everything was disorganized, though the employees tried to keep everything under the umbrella terms of Men's, Women's, Sports, etc. He shrugged his shoulders and meandered over to the men's section, looking for something that wasn't a polo shirt or band shirt with holes in it. And thus began his excursion into finding something fitting for a Ren Faire.


There were a number of reasons why Chantelle was shopping the men's section of a thrift store.

1) It was September now, so it was 100% fall. Spooky Season.
2) The number on the weather app stating it was 93 degrees today didn't matter.
3) Fall meant sweater weather.
4) Men's sweaters were historically better made, cheaper, warmer, and fit the whole "oversized sweater with messy bun bitch" look that Chantelle never fully pulled off, but that didn't mean she couldn't continue to try.

The reason she was on the floor right now in the middle of a circular rack was a little more convoluted. You see; one of the shirts on a hanger next to an interesting vest she was inspecting had fallen off the hanger, and into the abyss in the center. And being a good Samaritan and all of that, Chantelle saw no issue in getting down on her hands and knees and crawling in after it. There, she found a ton of other shirts and sweaters that met the same fate, never to see the light of day. So sue her for getting distracted and doing a little bit of shopping while sat on the floor in dim lighting surrounded by a ton of musty men's garments.

Nothing really caught her fancy. Tragic. She was getting ready to crawl her way out when she spied some shoes nearby. Grinning, Chantelle would moved to her knees and extended a hand, creeping it forward in wait until the shoes stopped in front of her. Then, with a totally scary "Raaahh!" she would shoot her hand out from below and flail her fingers against the man's ankles and shoes. Spooky season.

Sheridan sifted through the motley of sweaters, shirts, and pullovers. Wow, that vest must have at least been from the 70's. And that band? Who even is Young Colt anyway? A shirt for some penguin sport team, a button up plaid shirt that would have been three sizes too big for him... He pulled it off the rack, considering it for a moment. Maybe he should go put it back in it's proper pl--

Something reached out to snatch his foot. "What the ff--!" He bit his tongue and skittered back into the rack behind him, knocking off a few shirts and causing a dozen hangers to screech in protest. A handful of customers looked over at the commotion, and Sheridan just gave them a bashful grin. Then they all went about their business.

His first though was that somebody's child must be playing a prank on him, and he was thankful he kept that extra fuck from flying out and assaulting any youthful ears. Nonetheless, didn't stop him from thinking of what a little shithead said child was, scaring a few years off his life.

What a reaction! The guy scrambled away and made a commotion, and Chantelle bit back a loud cackle, managing to reel it in to a few giggles. She'd reach her hands up, pressing them together as if in prayer, then stuck her finger tips between two coats. In a grand, sweeping display, she'd part the sea of clothing and grin up at the dude she'd scared. "Boo!" She said in a stage whisper, then would start on crawling her way out, "Did I getcha?"

Wait a minute. That wasn't a kid's laugh. Those weren't kid hands....

Sheridan blinked at her. It was a grown-ass fucking woman. At first the absurdity of the situation completely blindsided him. What would possess a full-grown adult to do that? He looked around the store. Was there a secret camera crew high-fiving each other for another successful YouTube prank video?

You know what? Alright. He'd roll with it. He clutched his chest, flopping back against the hangers dramatically as if all the strength had been drained from his body. The grating noise caused customers again to look their way, and Sheridan adopted an exaggerated expression of pain. "Woman, you nearly killed me..! My weak, little heart can't take such jarring scares..!" He wheezed as if even talking was too much of an effort.



She watched the guy crumple and wheeze about his heart, her grin fading into an awkward smile as she straightened up from where she was crouched. Uhhh! Chantelle glanced about, toward the other people in the store, then back to him. "Uh sorry! Maybe just sit down?" He looked young, how did he have some feeble little old man heart?!

"Light, fading... It's dark, then light, then dark again..!" Alas, poor, feeble Sheridan's eyelids began to grow heavy. The man was fading before her very eyes...! Here, he was to meet his end in the midst of musty old cardigans and raggedy sweat shirts...!

As if a switch had been flipped within him, Sheridan perked up a moment later, standing up straight and dropping the charade entirely. His hands slid into his jacket pocket and he adopted a smug, playful grin.That's right, two could play at that game, missy! "Now, did I get you?"

It was... a dramatic show of death. And as he went all, her nervous smile feel entirely, into one of skepticism. Oh, it was bullshit, huh? He crumpled, and she was about to jab her toe into his thigh or something, but then he popped up and she lifted her eyebrows as her lips popped open audibly. An amused snort, and she shook her head, but a grin was soon to follow. "Good acting! You do that for a living?"

Sheridan knew his obscene little show would have ended in either one of two ways. 1. She would laugh it off and take it in stride, or the equally likely 2. He'd promptly scare her off with his borderline ridiculous response. He certainly couldn't blame her if she went with the latter option. Plenty of people did in the past. But no, she went with option 1! Given her earlier antics, he shouldn't have been surprised, but one could never tell how far the playfulness went with some people.

Oh, man, and the compliment! Sheridan positively beamed. "Aw, thanks! I wish, but no, though I have graced the stage a handful of times in the past. No, now, my talents lie elsewhere. In pizza delivery and the ever-so humble ride operation at Wonderland." He was definitely hamming it up a little for the sake of humor and dispelling the awkward. "What about you? Do you moonlight as a thrift store floor gremlin in your spare time often?"

Oh! He was so cute! Chantelle observed this in a way that a person would a puppy. She had the urge to cup his little beaming face in her hands. She didn't, though, that sort of stuff was reserved for friends only. He was no actor, but he did deliver pizza and man a freaking rollecoaster. Chantelle's eyebrows about took off from her face as she regarded him, balking at his humbleness. Then he was guessing at her occupation, and her big teeth were flashing brightly as she scrunched her nose and squinted her eyes, lifting up her hands and flexing her fingers at him, "Resident floor gremlin here." She said with a nod and a laugh, dropped the feirced facade in order to extend a gentle friendly punch to his shoulder. More like a fist bump! She had noodle arms. "Not way, dude! You like, get to see random old dudes in their undies answering the door and shoot people off into space. That shits cool!"

What a bundle of joy this lady was! It was usually difficult for him to find someone with as manic an energy as he usually had. Her sweet, sunny surprise and awe was welcome change from the usually bitter and bland feelings he'd felt on his commute. "So no feeding you here after midnight. Got it! Though if you're still here after midnight, that could be a whole other problem... " He tapped at his point chin in thought. Honestly, if she was busy spelunking between the clothing racks, he wouldn't be all that surprised.

He snickered, mock-wincing and rubbing has arm as if the punch might have actually hurt. It didn't, of course. He was also quite noodley, so he didn't exactly have any cushioning to begin with. "Oh, yes, absolutely living the dream! Nothing like seeing the wide variety Fruit of the Loom has for an equally wide variety of asses. And man, when you get to watch the little kids' faces fill with dread when you lower the safety harnesses..? Almost as priceless as watching them cackle in delight after they get make it back to the loading station..!"

It was rare to find someone that liked to talk as much as she did. She was usually the one doing most of the chatting. So it was a little hard for her to keep up with all of it, though she got the important bits. For the record, she didn't get the midnight joke, but it was okay because talking about his work escapades was more interesting. "Now you just need to strap someone in just wearing their tighty whities. Throw a pizza in their face at the end!" A perfect marriage!

"See, now it sounds like you're getting into game show territory. I could imagine seeing something like that on one of those crazy Japanese shows. Someone would probably need to be dressed in a bee costume for it to be full Japanese, though." He realized he might be sounding like he knew a little too much about such things, and decided to change the subject before any more uncool nerd shit leaked out of his mouth. Ugh!

"Speaking of costumes, I was just over here looking for anything that might work for the Ren Faire. What's got you over here on this side of the store?"

Chanetlle knew about those shows. She didn't know a lot about one half of her heritage, but she did know they had some freaking weird choices in television game shows. "Then they have to go around biting parts of the roller coaster to see if its made of chocolate or not." She said with a snicker. She would totally play that game.

As for his reasoning for coming here, a costume for a Ren Faire was something she was immediately interested in. "Sweaters, but Ren Faire sounds interesting. They're doing one!?" She'd only ever seen them on like, instagram and stuff. Never been.

Sheridan smirked at that, thankful that Chantelle didn't find his comment particularly insensitive. Would she have anyway, though? Was it worse that he couldn't tell if she was even Japanese to begin with? He pushed it from his mind for now, instead humoring the thought of such a ridiculous concept. He'd played much dumber games in his time, and would also gladly gnaw on every day things if it meant getting a taste of chocolate here and there.

"Yeah, apparently it's gonna be in town this coming weekend. I've got some costume stuff, but was looking to see if there might be anything else I can work in with it, you know? " He glanced to his left, eyeing the row of menswear, but nothing stood out. "It might be chilly this weekend, so if you think you'd wanna go, a sweater wouldn't be a bad idea. Though, no offense, I don't know if any of these would really be your style. But who knows? I'm often quite wrong! 'Dad going through his midlife crisis' may be just the aesthetic you're into?"

Whaaat! She had to go now. He was giving her advice on the wardrobe here, which reminded her she forgot to get what she'd gone onto the floor for. Oops! Still, she would turn to look at the clothing, amused that he thought she was above wearing some of this stuff. "That's like, my whole aesthetic, bro." She said, and moved to grab a particularly ugly mustard yellow one from the rack, "What's your name anyway? I bet I can help you find something you can wear." Like a big medieval barbie dress up game.

Oof, he was afraid she might be going for that ugly yellow sweater. His nose wrinkled in mock distaste, but he didn't keep it up for long. She still probably wore it better than 99% of dads out there, at least.

"Name's Sheridan. And you can if you want. I'm not really sure what I'm looking for, but I'm hoping it'll jump out at me." He paused, noting the accidental parallel he just drew. "Though, not literally, like you did. Heh... What's your name?"

Sheridan! That was cute.

"I mean, the best things come in surprises." She said with a grin, gesturing toward herself. "Chantelle." She'd offer her name, too, and move to step around to the back of the rack to help look. "Is there themes? Pirate? Fairies? Knights?" Important questions when on the search for a grand costume. She found another sweater she liked.

He had to snigger at that. "Yeah, definitely!" Ha, that was cute.

"You know, I dunno? I guess there might be. But I have this one outfit I've had for a while. I plan to dress up as the rogue-ish type. Big, stupid hat, cloak, and knives. Lots of knives! Maybe a sword..? I probably just need to find a decent belt to start with. Then a baggy shirt of some kind, maybe." He tilted his head as she picked up another sweater, giving it a once over, too.

A rouge with a big hat and knives. "You sound like you're gonna be a D&D character." Chantelle commented, intrigued. "Real knives?" She found a long sleeve black shirt that maybe looked promising enough to be all billowy and Dread Pirate Roberts-esque.

D&D, that nerd shit? He'd heard of it, but never saw it played outside of what the kids on Stranger Things played. Seemed a little too dorky for him, but he kept that to himself. "Er, yeah, sure! Something like that. Probably. And maybe real knives. I'd have to check their weapon policy. If not, I have some dull ones I could use instead. Or just buy some there. I'm in the market for some cool throwing knives."

He reached out, giving the fabric a feel between his fingers. The material seemed soft enough, though the black would certainly be hot in the sun. "Not bad...!" he commented.

This dude had real knives. Sick!

"Whoa! Knives. That's so metal." She'd comment, and when he confirmed that the shirt could work, she would offer it over to him to take so he could try it on or something. "I'm gonna go to this thing. Maybe I'll see you there!" Said a girl that had no concept of how big a production the faire was going to be.

"You should! Maybe you can dig up some cool clothes here, too, and slap a fun costume together. There could be some cute summer dresses if you wanna do a fairy thing. Or, if you put enough holes in something, it could look piratey."

He'd take the shirt, holding the hanger up to his collarbone and laying the sleeve along his outstretched arm to check for length. Seemed a little big for sure, but it could work. He just needed something to fit under his jerkin, after all. "If you do end up going, just look for a guy with a big hat and feather. I'll be checking out any weapons booths. Or maybe the ale stalls, too. "

"Probably not fairies, but pirates are an idea..." She said, thoughtful. She'd think of something!

"I'll keep an eye out for a hat and feather!" She assured him with a chuckle. He seemed to be deciding on this shirt, so she'd helped!

Gathering the black shirt up in his arms, he gave it a pat. "Pirates are just as good, maybe better, depending on who you ask, and which versions you're talking about."

He turned his gaze back to the rack, continuing, "I'll keep an eye out for another potential pirate, then. Hope to see ya there, and, uh, thanks for the help, Chantelle." Yeah, it was Chantelle, right? He hoped he got it right. He wasn't always perfect with names, but hers was more unique, so hopefully it wouldn't be too much of a problem to recall.

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