'Hi, Drew,' was the near-automatic response that came from Benji, who blinked and smiled again. It was just one of those days where he was, frankly, too tired to act anything close to himself, and instead would simply fall back on etiquette and smiles and what his mother had told him to do so long ago, back when he just helped out every evening. Smile, be friendly, and respond, she had been constantly repeating. Respond, respond, respond. He had to stay focused on not detaching again, had to focus on helping this man called Drew.
'Oh-- that's good. You've picked maybe the one area of the store that I definitely learn about. They really are nice instruments, I mean, um... The sound. I personally prefer one of the older ones, over there,' he said, gesturing over to a grand piano carved from a warm brown wood, with elegant carvings pressed into its body. 'She, um, sounds as nice as she looks, honestly. Not quite as sharp as some of the newer brands, like, um, Steinway... I mean, although they do lovely pianos, you really can't get that kind of texture until it's older. That's what I find, anyway. She's nearly as expensive, though... That one's two hundred and fifty thousand, seeing as she's a 'proper' antique, whatever that even means. I keep asking for my mom to bring the price down-- I think she deserves more than to be stuck in a store when I don't have the time to play her like she should be played-- but she's pretty adamant. It's the whole 'profit margin' thing.'
If there was one thing Benji could talk about, it was pianos. Whilst he avoided eye contact with Drew, and hardly paid him any attention, he rambled absently, enthusiastically. 'I mean... Do you, um, have a budget? That'll probably be a big factor... The prices are pretty variable, don't get me wrong, most of them aren't even close to as expensive as that one I was speaking about, at all, but you want to get the best for what you have, etcetera. Do you play professionally?' The question was posed curiously, on little more than a hunch, with a glance down towards the other man. He did seem to be the sort that would play often, judging by the sort of... wonder Benji saw as he looked at the instruments.Â
'You can, uh, test them, if you like. See which sounds you like best. Everyone's different, and whilst it's... Technically not something I'm allowed to do, I prefer to let everyone test instruments. Carefully. Otherwise I'll have to chase it up and everything'll, uh... Well, my mother would certainly make a mess,' was his final statement on the matter. He offered, and then explained, and then explained a little further. Now responding with more energy and less robotic sales-person, Benji smiled more genuinely to match, a smile which actually crinkled up to his own soft brown eyes. He was getting chattier than normal after his talk about the pianos, and whilst his awkwardness and typical shyness still shone through, he actually bothered to answer more than monosyllabically. 'Thank you. I... Do my best. If you see anything particularly hideous, though, I can guarantee that that was a parents' buy. Sometimes they like to pretend that they own and run this place, although they never seem willing to come back and visit it. They probably know I'd leave it to them and go off and do something else if they did.'
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