Please. I hardly need your obvious and sincere lack of erudition in aiding me with anything, let alone my relationship with, as you say, customers.
[Jaskier is already rolling his eyes and turning away at her overly verbose and completely unnecessary explanations of how to run a business, as if a girl of an age who should be hoeing mud pits and on her third child has any weight to throw at him on how to be successful. He can guarantee she is not the holder of an academy degree. Let alone seven of them. He is not the one who needs the employment. Any orphan off the streets could do this job, and he could likely pay them less, as well. (Though he wouldn't. Orphans often have very good work ethics.)]
And get off my counters. It is not made for your arse to sit on. It's for display and coin --
[The only reason he stops and does not already begin sweeping the girl out himself is because of Julie's interference. Now, Jaskier can take a lot. One may not call him patient, but he can be... understanding. However, the one thing he has no defense for -- and likely never will -- is the receiving of unsolicited criticism. Especially from those who likely know no better than himself... and especially from the mouth of babes.
He slowly turns his quickly darkening glare from the girl to Julie, fingers curled around the edge of the counter.] I don't waste money, I spend it exactly how I mean to. [He's just saying. He looks between them, then releases his fingers carefully. He must think, very clearly, to the messages left him earlier. What was that? I'm insulted you think I'd send you someone shitty? He must recognize this is Julie's attempt at a good deed. A good deed that is going sour. If he cares about anything, it is not annoying Julie (on purpose.)] Excuse me. I need to speak to Julie privately.
[And so he tilts his head towards the door leading to the back room, and waits for her to join him.]
Julie. This is a joke, isn't it? A very poor, ill-conceived one? You're hiding the real girl, that minds her tongue, somewhere outside?
no subject
[Jaskier is already rolling his eyes and turning away at her overly verbose and completely unnecessary explanations of how to run a business, as if a girl of an age who should be hoeing mud pits and on her third child has any weight to throw at him on how to be successful. He can guarantee she is not the holder of an academy degree. Let alone seven of them. He is not the one who needs the employment. Any orphan off the streets could do this job, and he could likely pay them less, as well. (Though he wouldn't. Orphans often have very good work ethics.)]
And get off my counters. It is not made for your arse to sit on. It's for display and coin --
[The only reason he stops and does not already begin sweeping the girl out himself is because of Julie's interference. Now, Jaskier can take a lot. One may not call him patient, but he can be... understanding. However, the one thing he has no defense for -- and likely never will -- is the receiving of unsolicited criticism. Especially from those who likely know no better than himself... and especially from the mouth of babes.
He slowly turns his quickly darkening glare from the girl to Julie, fingers curled around the edge of the counter.] I don't waste money, I spend it exactly how I mean to. [He's just saying. He looks between them, then releases his fingers carefully. He must think, very clearly, to the messages left him earlier. What was that? I'm insulted you think I'd send you someone shitty? He must recognize this is Julie's attempt at a good deed. A good deed that is going sour. If he cares about anything, it is not annoying Julie (on purpose.)] Excuse me. I need to speak to Julie privately.
[And so he tilts his head towards the door leading to the back room, and waits for her to join him.]
Julie. This is a joke, isn't it? A very poor, ill-conceived one? You're hiding the real girl, that minds her tongue, somewhere outside?