Time to get started up again!
I was in the back room when Walter Frobisher announced his complicated presence in my equally complicated life. His arrival was heralded by the ringing of the bell over the front door ring; fortunately I was standing at the time, or else I might not have heard it. Then again, I was going to go back into the public part of the shop in a few minutes anyway, so it probably wouldn’t have mattered. But since I knew there was somebody actually wandering through the shop, I made my brisk way to the front.
“Good morning, sir!” I said to him, as brightly as if I actually meant it. We had all worked out what our public personas were, and I had decided upon ‘cheerfully polite, not quite manic.’ “Welcome to Surprising Things!”
Walter — understand, I did not know his name at the time — blinked at me, as if he wasn’t expecting politeness this early in the morning. “Ah. Yes. Thank you.” He then started looking around, almost as if he was looking for an excuse to have come in. I shifted my head to look past him and through the shop window: it was bright and sunny out, with no rumbles, ruffians, or riots going on in the street. Clearly he was not here to seek shelter. Then again, I would have been indifferent if he was.
Ah, yes. The accumulating implications start right from the beginning.
You, sir, have a style.