atelier
[at-l-yey, at-l-yey; French atuh-lyey]
- a workshop or studio, especially of an artist, artisan, or designer.
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“Oh my
god, I can’t believe I never noticed this place!” Ben’s mom gushed as she
perused the isles.
Ben
could not care less. He had been forced
onto his mother’s shopping expedition, and was doing his very best to make his
position clear by paying more attention to his phone than the displays. The small building served as both workshop
and store for various local artists, and was starting to gain popularity. That is, popularity with parents. People Ben’s age usually could not care less.
“Oh, is
that a new piece?” The woman exclaimed as she moved towards the rear of the
building.
She was
suddenly engrossed by one of the artists currently working on a new piece of
art that would inevitably make its way to the shelves. Ben could do nothing but roll his eyes. To him, watching some guy paint was one of
the most boring things he could think of.
As such, he chose to wander, leaving his mom to watch the creation of
art in progress.
As he
looked at the various paintings and sculptures on display, he found it. The true jewel of the store. The only real masterpiece he could see. He slowly made his way towards the work of
art.
“Hey.”
He said.
The girl
looked up from the tray of sculptures she had been methodically placing on a
shelf.
“Hey.”
She replied, setting a piece of molded clay on the shelf.
“I’m Ben,
nice to meet you.”
“Cindy.”
“So,
Cindy, you new in town? Sorry, it’s just
that I haven’t seen you in school or anything, and I think I’d notice someone
like you.”
She gave
him a side smile at the awkward compliment, but stopped her task to face
him. “Yeah, we just moved here a week
ago. I’ll be starting school after winter
break.”
“Man, a
week in and you already have a job. That
must suck. Especially in a place like
this.”
“Oh,
god, I know, right? It’s so boring. But my dad says I have to work somewhere, and
since my mom’s an artist, she managed to get me in.”
“Well,
at least you have something nice to look at.
My job features selling food to fat people, so there’s a lot less to
look at.”
She
winced at the implication. “Oo, fast
food?”
“Let me
just say this. Have you seen the place
at the corner of Main and Oak?”
“Sure. Haven’t gone there yet though.”
“Don’t.”
Ben said quickly. “Avoid that place with
everything you have.”
A
worried expression crossed her face. “Is
it really that bad?”
“I once
saw a mouse jump in the fryer while it was going. The boss just scooped it out, and had the guy
working it keep going. And that’s not
even the worst thing I’ve seen.”
“Seriously?”
“Only
reason I haven’t reported it is because nobody would care. Apparently, lots of people try and submit all
the problems to headquarters, but nothing sticks.”
“That
sucks. Well, look on the bright
side. At least it’s not boring.”
“That’s
true.”
“So, now
that fast food’s off the table, what other places around here are good?”
“Oh,
there’s plenty. Maybe we can get
together some time and I’ll show you around.
Not just the restaurants and stuff either, but everything.”
She cradled
her chin in her hand and made sounds like she was thinking. “You know what, that sounds good. Here, give me your phone.”
Ben did
so without hesitation. Cindy tapped a
few screens and entered her number in his contacts list. She then handed him her phone, where he completed
the exchange. As soon as the phones were
back with their respective owners, Cindy looked over his shoulder.
“Ah,
geeze, there’s my boss.” She said heavily.
“I’ve got to get back to work now, but it was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah,
same. So, I’ll see you around?”
“Yup.”
“Great. Later then.”
As Ben
walked away, he had to force himself not to start singing and dancing right
then and there. Maybe his mom was onto
something with places like this.
**************
Support the arts, even if you're not always interested in them.
Support the arts, even if you're not always interested in them.
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