MORNING DAYS V

Alrighty. So back to JJ, his work (that he must remove his clothes for), and the lucky pickle tokens. JJ hops on to his scooter and drives to work. Yes, he can probably afford a nice, formal car but he loves his scooter. It reminds him of the cramped, smelly, filthy, romantic streets of Paris. He had spent two quarters there during his college years with Cyn. Though they studied at different schools, they were able to study abroad at the same time (probably because of JJ's luck). It was one of those awesome experience that he'll remember forever and ever and ever. While backpacking during one weekend, they found themselves without money, without sense of direction, and without knowing any French... in a very rural area of France. They ended up posing in the for some poor art students in efforts to get back to the city. Uh, but that's another story that we'll probably never get to. Never!

JJ arrives at his workplace promptly fifteen minutes after he hopped on to his scooter to drive there. From the outside, it looks like a crappy/shady warehouse. From the inside... eh, still crappy/shady but a little less so. There are sheets upon sheets of super white linen sprung all across the floor and draped over every wall. It feels as if these people don't want their work spurring all over the place. What neat freaks. In the middle of the warehouse is a platform wide enough for two acrobats to perform their usual stretching routines.

Not many people are there yet but the few who are are undressing him with their eyes. Oh, he's always early for work... yeah, unlike Cyn (but then it's not totally her fault, right?).

JJ plops himself down on a sofa looking thing covered in white linen. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. He probably has sufficient time for one daydream. Let it roll. But then, he's rudely interrupted by a new, shy, stuttering art student. She looks as if she'd just turn eighteen and doesn't know what to do with her life.

"Um.. ex-excuse me, sir mister pic-pic-pickle."

JJ opens one eye and turns his head slightly. "Call me JJ." JJ lifts a hand and points to the bulge at the front of his pants. "His name is Mr. Pickle... and he doesn't really talk to strangers."

"I-I-seeee. Umm... umm..."

"Umm? Is that your name, Umm?"

"Umm... umm..." She lowers her head and sticks out a gold stick looking thing.

JJ recognizes it and understands completely. She must be new at this. The new ones are always fun. "So you have a lucky pickle token. First time?" JJ looks so cocky sitting there with his arms hanging, elbows resting, and head back. It's kind of intimating for new customers.

"Ye-ye-yess."

"So, Umm. Where would you like your luck?"

"I... I... I wa-want t-t-to impress th-th-the a-a-art instruuctor on m-m-my first day-y-y."

JJ rubs his forehead. "Your stutter is making my head ache. So, let me get this straight. You would like the luck in your hands, correct?"

"Y-yes." The nervous girl tries to stutter less. The hands holding the lucky pickle token is trembling like mad. The lucky pickle token is about to tremble right out of her hands.

JJ snatches it away from her and sticks it into his pocket. "Let's get started then before the class starts." JJ yanks his pants down without even sitting up first. He's done it so many times, he's a pro. In doing so, he exposes himself to the girl and she screams while covering her eyes.

"Oh lord... If you're scared then..."

"No, I need the luck of mis-mis-misster pic-pic-pickle."

"With those shakey hands, you sure do. I doubt you can even hold a pencil right."

"So... wh-what do I d-d-doo?"

"Since you want the luck in your hands, you'll rub him with your hands."

"O-ok-okay..." She pulls her hands away from her eyes but they're still closed... like really, really tight. So much effort. She moves her hands around like a blind person desperately searching for something.

It takes JJ a while but he manages to grab one of her flying arms by the wrist and drags it down to his sleeping pickle. It's sleeping because no home sweet home is around to excite it.

The girl suddenly grips it so hard, JJ almost jumps off the sofa. "Whoa, whoa... girl... I mean, Umm. Not too hard. You don't want to strangle him to death, do you?" Apparently, this girl has never given a . Oh well. He can teach... even without a license. "Loosen your grip. Not too loose, not too tight. Make your hands comfortable."

She's shaking so much, he feels like he has a few rings around his pickle. It's not such a bad feel... after she loosens her vice-like grip.

"Is th-this o-okay-y-y?"

"Sure."

"Oh, your thumb... wrong place to put the pressure."

"Ri-right h-hehehere?"

It takes a while but Mr. Pickle slowly awakens... with a lot of effort. He's being lazy... like real lazy... but then again, when is he not lazy... except when he's inside his happy home?

Oh lord, these amatuers.

So... one of JJ's jobs (the side side job, that deals with lucky pickle tokens), is giving superstitious people the chance to let some of his luck rub off on them. So, like... if they're preparing for a difficult surgery, they'd come to him and give him a . If they're racing in the Olympics, they'll give him a footjob. If they're auditioning as a singer then they would... yeah, you get the pattern.

Oh, and his other jobs? Modeling in the for free. JJ can't go wrong. He is a patron of the arts. His other job is also modeling... but in clothes, different brands of clothing. Now, that job... he gets paid for. 

Yep.