"I was actually just lamenting my sad lack of garlic breath. However did you guess?" He'll eat the hell out of that stuff once this is done.
...Or possibly before then, as he's just finished staring blankly at this somewhat-assembled shelf and is now standing up, fully abandoning it there on the floor. This shelf. Abandoned. He cares not for its sundry pieces any longer. Stepping away from the mess (for now) (and it's barely even a mess by any standards), he saunters to yon kitchen sink to wash his hands, quiet in his barefootedness. Barefootedness is now a word, by the way.
"That trade fell through," he says, and turns off the tap, dripping from the wrists as he turns to grab a dry dish towel. "This closed-system shit is driving me up the wall. There's too much competition right now—it's getting harder to establish a decent foothold anywhere and not be butted out." He manages, sure, but it is frustrating nonetheless.
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...Or possibly before then, as he's just finished staring blankly at this somewhat-assembled shelf and is now standing up, fully abandoning it there on the floor. This shelf. Abandoned. He cares not for its sundry pieces any longer. Stepping away from the mess (for now) (and it's barely even a mess by any standards), he saunters to yon kitchen sink to wash his hands, quiet in his barefootedness. Barefootedness is now a word, by the way.
"That trade fell through," he says, and turns off the tap, dripping from the wrists as he turns to grab a dry dish towel. "This closed-system shit is driving me up the wall. There's too much competition right now—it's getting harder to establish a decent foothold anywhere and not be butted out." He manages, sure, but it is frustrating nonetheless.