Caleb didn't really work here, per se, but Caleb also didn't really work anywhere, at least not on a permanent basis. She drifted from open position to open position as they opened up, funding her rather minimal bills and meal costs well enough for her to be mostly left alone. It wasn't so bad, really. She enjoyed it, and she figured that eventually, she'd find one that she really liked. At least, that was how she was told being an adult worked.

So far, no dice.

Oh yeah, but anyway -- Caleb didn't really work here, per se, but that hadn't stopped her from somehow wearing the same color scheme as the employees of the place. It was something that probably wouldn't catch anyone else's attention, but she realized her mistake immediately upon entering the store. The entire time she wandered around, looking at the plants and the dirts and the different flavors of wood sliced up all neatly on their little shelves, like giant pieces of tasty wood jerky in their little bins for the next 29 foot tall shopper to snack on. Cold sweat lined her brow and stickied her palms as she waited, just waited, for someone to reach out and ask her for help, or for directions, or for something else that she could never in her grandest dreams provide them with. The stress made her shirt stick to the small of her back, and her gaze stick to the floor whenever passing by another person.

It happened, though, as much as she dreaded it, as much as she was sure it wouldn't happen if she was this aware and prepared for it, that was always the case, wasn't it?, but she knew as she brushed past some form -- she hadn't even particularly perceived him, really, busy as she was with her thoughts about clothes, and jobs versus a job, and work verus work. She heard the noise, the universal sound of 'Hey, you there! The help! Get over here and serve me!', the retail employee reflex, the spin of her head and the hair 'round her shoulders after she realized she'd ignored someone.

She didn't really work here, right, in the way she didn't work anywhere, but was that any reason to ignore or to besmirch the reputation of some little home goods store? Probably not.

"Yeah?" She blurted, louder than she expected, and she chided herself when she heard her own voice, the same way she often did. "Yeah?" This time, it was repeated, but in a quieter way, and her face grew red and her hand flew up to stop her brains and her eyes from falling out the back of her skull, scratching at an itch that wasn't there moments before. "Can I help you?" The words came out too quick, a force of habit, programming by corporations hardwiring her mouth to the politeness required by those serving others.

Despite herself, the immediate burden of what she'd taken on weighed on her shoulders and showed, unadulterated, upon her face. This dude wanted her to help him lift some dirt up? She didn't even work here. Was he serious? That was kind of the train of thought that her caboose of a brain latched onto, but in the end she was still the conductor, she was still the one crashing into oncoming traffic, on purpose, this was nothing fate or employment had put in her way. She'd responded, and she had to eat the cake, so to speak.

"I actual... yeah, sure." It'd be more work to explain to this obviously confused individual the whole situation, her whole thought process behind dressing like this and going to a store, her whole deal in general. It wouldn't be hard to just help him out, pull the stuff up, get it in his cart for him. She could do it. She pushed her sleeves back a little, along with her attitude. It cost nothing to be nice, and she was okay. She had nothing better to do, and no one knew that better than her (and this guy, apparantly).

She assumed the party position by shifting herself to have her legs braced on both sides, just like in all of those training videos she'd texted her way through, in all those 6x5 break rooms with a single PC with which to finish your company mandated training. Lift with your buddy, not your body, or something to that effect, she could ace those multiple choice questions without even trying, and she had.

For the first time she made real eye contact, up through her blonde bangs, ready to take on the world and this bag.

"Ready when you are."