83. “What Do You Live By?” “Oh, Just The Four Pillars of Customer Service”
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"Man, I sure want popcorn," Rosa said, as she watched the show. "You're saying that guy's Potato Peeler?"

"Yeah," I said, smoothly pretending like the word popcorn wasn't completely new and I knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Huh. Maybe I shouldn't have told Cook to bet for him. He looks pretty weak."

I snorted. "He set Dry Tomato's apron on fire. He's as nimble as the other cooks. Besides, someone stole Spilled Spaghetti's flour."

"Hm, then maybe there's a-- [beep]!" Rosa swore, lurching forward. "She's moving!"

"About time!" Whirling around, I began squeezing through the crowd through everyone's grumbles. "Sorry, coming through!"

"Hey!" people complained as I roughly elbowed them away.

"Very sorry about that!" I called, grimacing. As much as I hated to be so aggressive, if we lost this lady, we would've wasted our entire day here. I did not wake up at 3 AM to waste our day here like this!!

"Coming through, coming through," I murmured through the crowd, and we safely made it to the ground alive, though I could feel the disgruntled glares of the people around us.

Ignoring them with ease (I hadn't done years of Customer Service work for nothing), I peered around us once more. "Where did she go?" I hissed.

Rosa raised her eyes and took a quick look, then pointed. "There. She's going that way."

"Which way?" I asked, but Rosa was already starting to move, so I gave up on spotting her myself and followed her.

I didn't see her until we reached a relatively sparse corner of the warehouse near the exit, which was when I finally recognized the pinched look on her face and her white overalls.

She had her arms crossed and was shifting her feet continuously, impatience written across her face. I gulped without really meaning to-- her posture reminded me of the snooty lady living across Auntie Dela's house, who always seemed two minutes away from a snarl. I avoided her at all costs now, but Auntie Dela liked mimicking her from time to time.

What was her name again? It had started with a K...

"You remember what our plan is, right?" Rosa asked in a low voice beside me.

The one we'd come up with on the balcony while we'd waited? "Of course." I took a deep breath and let it out as a long, silent sigh. Everything now depended on what I had trusted enough to come here for: my acting abilities.

If there was any comfort, it was that mine were about a thousand times better than Rosa's (she couldn't lie to save her life, which was the exact point here), but that didn't mean I'd be able to survive this. We were in a gambling ring, of all places, ready to go head-to-head with whom we presumed was part of an illegal trade. If I couldn't convince them, who knew where I'd end up?

I shuddered as images of backstreet alleys, a battered and bruised hand peeking out from beneath rubble, flashed through my brain. 

Rosa clapped me on the back. "You can do it!"

"Ow," I replied, then squared my shoulders. That's right! As they always said: Remember the Four Pillars of Customer Service. Cheerfulness. Friendliness. Helpfulness. And, the most important of them all, Putting-Your-Foot-Down-Ness.

What did I need to do to make my acting convincing? That's right. I needed to put my foot down. I am who I am saying I am. I am who I am portraying myself to be. I am.

I took a few more deep breaths while Rosa whisper-shouted a few more "You can do it, Filly!"'s next to me.

"All right!" I said, once Rosa had clapped me on the back for the third time. "I'm going!"

"Woohoo! You can do it!"

"Shh!"

And with that, I stepped forward.


Step1pun unintentional, or, as I like to call it, punintentional number one. Approach her casually, naturally, very very coincidentally. (These were Rosa's words, not mine-- but they rhymed, so I remembered them exactly as she'd said it.)

See, if I beelined to her, then it would look too obvious-- too suspicious-- and the game would be up in seconds. I needed to act like I wasn't acting, which meant I had to start my role before my target even looked at me. Liars all knew that the most convincing lies came from the most natural details. Not too much details-- or else that would look forced.

I looked around as casually as I could, like I was looking for someone but trying not to show it, wandering around a bit cautiously. Since most everyone was facing the arena, watching the show, I kept my body pointed largely in the same direction even as I inched towards her.

At a location about three or four feet from her, I slowed to a stop, then made myself comfortable. Just another person, watching the show, but occasionally looking around and sighing.

Inhaling in, I swallowed dryly. Okay. I got this. I'll be fine. I'm just... I'm just using my socialization skills, as per usual.2Filian has socialization skills. Filian is the true OP. It would only be a bit more... directional than I usually would be.

Now, let's think-- what kind of person would this lady be most susceptible to? Some people preferred the chatty, cheerful types; others responded better to a quieter and nicer approach. This lady... I chewed on the inside of my cheeks, thinking. What kind of person was she? Would she empathize more with someone who found their superiors exasperating, the type that just wanted to go home as soon as possible? Or would she see that as lazy and utterly despicable? She might be the very passionate kind of person, who lived to work well, strict on herself and stricter on others.

Well, I could always subtly change my identity as we went on. Maintaining a single image made for a fake, more unbelievable lie. For now, anything believable would work that would get me into a conversation with her.

But how could I approach her so that it would feel natural? Strangers didn't really strike up random conversations with strangers. Especially not when they're three or four feet apart. Maybe I should've headed closer to her...?

A roll of gasps sounded around me, and a loud, long whistle sounded. My attention snapped back to the arena. "What happened?" I heard myself saying, though nobody answered. I could barely see into the arena with all the people in front of me (I wasn't short, but these people were tall), so I stretched upwards, standing on my tip toes.

Then I inhaled sharply, my thoughts whirring. This was my chance!

Still on my tiptoes, I began tottering closer and closer to the lady, my head craned upwards as if I was only trying to find a better spot to see the arena. Since this was a more emptier portion of the warehouse, and since a lot of people were moving restlessly, too, I managed to plant myself right next to her at the end.

I kept my eyes trained on small gap of sight I had of the arena but slightly turned my body towards the lady. "What happened?" I asked, then spared her a quick, wide-eyed look. "I couldn't see. Did something happen?"

The lady frowned at me and took a step back, wary, but she didn't seem to eye me suspiciously. "Someone got hurt," she answered shortly.

"Oh no!" I bit my lip and stretched my neck out even longer, tiptoeing in place. "Did you see who?"

"Spilled Spaghetti."

"Oh good," I sighed, falling back on my heels. With a small gasp, I hurriedly followed that with, "Not good, as in I'm glad he got hurt, but uh, I didn't bet on him, so." I gave her an awkward laugh.

The lady didn't respond, only nodding once and going back to watching the arena.

Welp, guess my persona was 'needlessly chatty' now. She didn't seem the sharing sort; if I wanted to keep talking with her enough to worm my way in, I'd need to be the chatty type.

Without missing a beat, I continued on blithely, like I was oblivious to the fact that she wasn't being receptive. (Ah, if only.) "I bet for Potato Peeler, you know. Who did you bet for?" A moment after, I pursed my lips. "Unless we're... not supposed to be discussing that with people?"

I saw one of the lady's eyebrows twitch upwards, a small, mocking smile pulling up at the corner of her lips, and suppressed a smile of my own.

Good. Underestimate me. Judge me for my happy-go-lucky tone. Sneer at me in the inside. That's how you will let down your guard, and I will get the upper hand.

"Sorry," I continued in an awkward voice, scratching my head awkwardly at an awkward angle. I awkwardly cleared my throat, just to be extra awkward. "This is the first time I've come here, and I didn't really come here to...." I let myself (awkwardly) trail off, then swallowed. "Anyways, uh, nice to meet you!"

Ha! If I could say so myself, that was a stroke of genius right there. The way I swallowed quickly, not finishing my sentence, and adding in a little obviously false cheer into my continuation? The way my anyways afterwards came out a little rushed? Yes. You see this, Rosa? (Probably not.) This was what acting was!

The woman shifted her feet and gave me a very small, very reluctant nod.

"What's your name? Oh, I know we use false names here. That I know, hehe." I flashed her another bland smile, then stuck out a hand for her to shake. "Call me Turkey Sandwich."

I waited expectantly, my pulse quickening. This was where the first step of the plan might go very, very wrong, and I needed all my Customer Service-trained, people-reading senses to guide me through it. 

The lady eyed my hand in thinly veiled displeasure, then seemed to sigh to herself before un-crossing her arms and giving me a really fast, sloppy handshake. While that was pretty rude, and I would usually judge her for that, I was still waiting for her to name herself. I zeroed in on her face as her mouth opened.

"Lemon Quiche," she said, her face already turning away from me.

In the split second after she'd dropped my hand like it was dirty, I began thinking. Hmm. Now, was Lemon Quiche a name she used all the time, or a name she'd just made up because she found me annoying and wanted to get rid of me as quick as possible?

If she had paused or even hesitated for a slight second before she'd said her name, I would've known that she'd come up with the name on the spot. It did feel like the words came naturally on her tongue, but she could just be very good at improvising, and if she had seemed that natural because it was her favorite food... then all of this would fail. But which one was it?

I didn't have time to mull over this-- the longer the pause, the weirder it would get. This was a gamble I'd have to bet on, whether I liked it or not; we weren't at a gambling ring for no reason, I supposed.

I'd deliberately stayed silent for the long moment to pretend my thoughts had frozen in place for a second, and I followed that up by swallowing. "What did you say your name was?" I asked, my voice faltering just so at the very end.

Lemon Quiche gave me a suspicious look. "Lemon Quiche."

"You're Lemon Quiche?" I asked immediately, shuttering my face into a slight frown of disbelief, stepping away.

The lady was immediately on guard, her own eyes flashing up at me behind lidded eyes. "And what of it?"

"Wait, you're Lemon Quiche? I--" An incredulous smile worked up into my face, and I gave her a bright smile. "I've finally found you! Oh, wait, I need to..."

She watched me, her shoulders tense and her stance slightly more defensive, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, blinking rapidly, my gaze unfocused. "Um... if you could give me some time, I need to... Right, first, I'd like to introduce someone to you. Please don't move! I'll be right back."

Spinning around on my heel, I made sure to scan the crowd real quick before I headed off into a direction, certainty in my feet. And once my back was to her, I even let out a bark of incredulous laughter, pretty sure her eyes were still on me.

In private, a rush of exhilaration ran through my muscles, and I suppressed the urge to pump my fist in the air. I also wanted to yell triumphantly, but obviously that was out question too.

This must be why people gamble, I thought as my heart beat at a rapid pace, but not out of anxiety this time. The moment I'd 'recognized' her name, she'd been on guard and completely suspicious. Not a single hint of confusion or even derogatory amusement, as one might expect if someone suddenly recognized a name you'd just made up. You know what that meant? That meant that this sort of recognition was possible. Yes, this was a name that could be recognized.

In other words, I'd gambled correctly, and won.


A/N: I KNOW, we're progressing tiny step by tiny step in this gambling arc. I know, and I'm sorry, especially because this arc is taking extra long due to my slow updates. But we're getting there! I promise!!

Also, the author does not support gambling in any way. Don't gamble, guys, and live by the Four Pillars of Customer Service instead. :D

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