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The shop is abuzz with activity! Dust has been dislodged from any unsuspecting surface not quick enough to conceal itself, the floor has been swept and then mopped within an inch of its life, and not one, not two, but four crates, each waist high on Jim have a place of honor at the very back of the shop.
Three have their lids pried off, there's sawdust nearly everywhere for a three foot radius, and Jim's suit has certainly seen better days, but he barely seems to notice, so engrossed is he in examining the delivery.
The bell does get his attention, though, and he shoots the crates a reluctant look before he stands, dusts himself off as best as he can, and makes his way to the front of the shop.
"Jim's antiques," he says, basically as soon as he's come into sight "can I help you?"
