Jack and his parents traversed the length of the mall. Although the shops were open, they were mostly abandoned save for some dozing employees. At the very end of the walk, they were confronted with an open storefront, blended seamlessly with the surrounding architecture. They sat down on a bench.
Inside the store, if it could be accurately described as having an inside, a large number of mostly female employees stood about expectantly.
"Do you need your dress hemmed?" an officious-looking woman asked Jack. He looked down and examined his blue apron. Yes, it did look a bit like a dress. But it wasn't.
"No," he replied.
At this, the woman gave a signal and the entire troupe of employees sprung into a complicated kind of ballroom dance. It was a stately affair, and very well-coordinated, though the actual steps consisted mostly of slow walking.
"Those steps look dangerous," remarked The Mother, pointing to the tiered floor.
As the dance continued, Jack examined the faces of the employees. There were some girls he found attractive, and some less so. He figured that was a normal state of affairs.
Of course, not all the dancers were female. Among the males, Jack noticed the face of Montano, as well as Montano II, a doppelganger with slightly longer hair and a craftier face. Montano walked over and sat down behind Jack.
"You work here?" asked Jack.
"No," answered Montano.
"Oh...then, how did you get to dance?"
"I just took the workshop."
The dancing continued for a time, and when it terminated the employees formed a large, three-sided perimeter. The head woman called out signals, and the employees struck various poses and emitted flirty noises at the gathered audience. During this section, one of the girls detached herself from the ring and sat down next to Jack. She did not speak, but merely flashed him sidelong glances.
Near the end of the show, Jack's parents got up to leave. Montano stood up with them.
"They are my ride," he explained.
Jack, too, walked away, but not before the girl stood up and began following him, breathlessly anxious.
"You're coming too?" Jack queried.
"Yeah. I, uh, was thinking maybe, sometime, I could hem something for you?"
"Oh, um..." Jack said awkwardly, "...sure, I guess. Uh, when were you thinking?"
"I was thinking maybe July."
"Oh, ok." Jack was relieved; July was still a ways off. "I think that should work."
"What's the best way to get in contact with you?"
The pair had entered a vestibule containing older people sitting in silence. Through a window, Jack could see a church service in progress. A gaudy officiant spoke some words and behind him a paper tree unfurled, displaying small outgrowths as it expanded. A female dancer revolved around it, twirling and throwing out her arms in exultation.
"E-mail, probably," said Jack, trying to keep his voice lower. "Here, let me write it down for you."
Jack tried to scrawl his address out onto the paper but the process proved difficult. After several attempts, he handed her the paper, looking at his writing in disappointment; even he had trouble deciphering the letters, which read roughly "anmitated.arctoo@gmail.com."
"Can you make that out? It's not very clear. Maybe you should re-write it in your own handwriting."
"You're sure this is your e-mail?" she said skeptically.
"Yes, one of them. This one links into the other one."
