It Takes Skill To Trip Over Flat Surfaces (Winter)

[Grady Mitchellson]

Grady had always been a bit of a klutz. Though he had been lucky to never seriously injure himself because of it, there had been plenty of times when something was broken around the house when he'd been growing up and his parents had assumed it was him who had accidentally broken it. True, it usually was him, but it wasn't like he'd meant to break plates, vases, and lamps. There was just something about his two feet that made them get tangled and trip over everything. 

It was one of the things he truly loved about his ability. When he was flying he never felt like a klutz.

When he was flying he didn't have to worry about watching out for the rack of chips at the end of the aisle. He didn't have to make sure that he catch his shirt on it, reach out as he fell, and drag the whole thing down on himself.

But as usually, his ability to keep himself upright failed. And that's how he found himself buried under Doritos and Sun Chips when really all he'd wanted was to pick up a soda and a snack after his classes had finished. Maybe walk down to the lack. But no...that was 

At least he'd managed not to let out a girl-ish scream as he'd tumbled. 

[Winter Rowley]

The SuperKwik Food & Fuel Mart was a small building with a lot of merchandise crammed into as little space as possible. One could find diapers, flashlights, and Cheetos all on the same aisle; most of the square footage was reserved for the refrigerated units along the walls that held soda and beer. The ceiling was lined with long, dingy fluorescent lights that buzzed and flickered nonstop, and the heavily advertised Grab ‘n Go Snack Station consisted of one hot dog warmer, a slushie machine, and four coffee pots.

There wasn’t much to it, not really, but Winter Rowley found himself answering the same set of questions from customers day-in and day-out. What aisle is the aspirin on? How much are the large slushies? Do you sell vodka? Can I buy vodka and then put it in my large slushie? Truly, he didn’t even bother to judge anyone anymore; at this point in his life, he’d sell anything and say anything to absolutely anyone, as long as he could collect his $9.20 an hour.

And so, like any seasoned retail employee worth his paycheck, his reaction to the distant crash of something-or-other beyond the counter was resignation, not surprise. Winter Rowley was a very difficult person to surprise.

Still, he left his place behind the counter looking appropriately concerned.

“You alright?” he said, making a split-second assessment of the damage. The kid was young, almost certainly Hammel age; he didn’t appear to be critically injured, but it was hard to see him under all the chips. Winter reached down to grab the now-empty rack and move it aside.

“Are you cut anywhere? Do you think you can stand up? I can call an ambulance if you think you need one.”

The offer seemed a little much under the circumstances, but in his defense, he was required to offer medical attention so that the management could avoid lawsuits.

[Grady Mitchellson]

Grady climbed out from under the pile or chip bags trying not to step on any of the bags. His face was bright red, he could feel it heating up, and he was glad for his dreads to hid behind.

He gave the older guy a nod, afraid to use his voice just now. He was sure that he was going to die from embarrassment and wasn't ready to add his high voice to the equation just now.

Now standing, Grady gave himself a once over. He wasn't hurt at all, just his ego. Though he should be used to it by now, it was always hard when he made a klutz of himself. He spent some much of his day trying to be invisible and then had to trip over his own two feet and call attention to himself on a regular basis.

"No!" Grady squeaked out at the mention of an ambulance. He would literally die. He coughed to try to regain his deep voice and his composure. "I mean...No thanks. I'm cool." There he only cracked a little bit that time.

He started to pick up the chips and put them back on the empty rack. "Sorry for the mess."

[Winter Rowley]

The kid was standing, and that was good; the only thing that Winter hated more than seeing people get seriously hurt was having to explain to his manager precisely how, where, and when they had gotten seriously hurt. It made his job difficult. Picking up chip bags, on the other hand, was only slightly more effort than breathing.

“Alright,” he said, perfectly calm in the face of the younger boy’s anxiety. If he noticed the unusually high pitch or crack in Grady’s words, he gave no sign. “Sorry; I have to offer to call one. People sue for all kinds of weird sh—er… stuff.”

He cleared his throat.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll pick it up,” he said. He picked up a few fistfuls of snacks and replaced them on the rack with expert speed. Once he was done, he gave his nervous young customer another once-over.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You want to sit in the break room and chill out for a minute or two? You can get yourself a little cup of water or something.”

[Grady Mitchellson]

Grady took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down while the older boy was busy picking up the chips. He felt horrible for creating such a mess. At least he wasn't getting yelled at.

"Yeah...people can be stupid," Grady agreed. Of course he'd never had anyone sue him, but he'd dealt with enough idiots. He had to laugh a little at the older boy's covering up of the swear. He hope the guy was doing that because of his job and not because he thought Grady was too young to hear swear words.

"Yeah...I'm fine. But uh...do you have ice cream with brownies in it?" He asked. Maybe if he knew where to look he wouldn't cause another commotion stumbling around.