𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐃!

“I am not saying you are stupid, I was simply asking for specifications. Of course you know your tape. So, general purpose. I’ll see what we have.” This guy really seemed in big need for his tape for him to be this.. theatrical about it. His lips pressed further into a smile at the other’s suggestion. This guy was basically a genius, he thought sarcastically. “Understaffed because my cashier is on special leave.” ….Was she, though? “Thank you for the suggestion, though.”

Johnny took a lazy stroll to the backroom, taking his sweet time to get the box that held the most common kind of duct tape he sold. For a moment he wondered why a mechanic would be in such a dire need for the item and he hoped the other wasn’t fixing tires with general purpose duct tape. He came back with the box under his arm and it gave a light thud as he put it on the counter. He decided to bring the entire box so he could immediately refill the empty shelves afterwards. He quickly scribbled a reminder on a nearby notepad to order another box later that day — it was the only way he would remember.

“How many do you need, sir?”

.

“whatever, man.” thad scoffed. he knew what he heard from this johnny fellow. he didn’t need to be gaslit in the melvald’s line. he was so rudely torn from his thoughts with the need to correct the clerk again, “no, not general purpose. i don’t want that flimsy scotch trash. i need duct tape and electrical tape. a roll each.” sure, thad was particular, but he wouldn’t settle for less than what he wanted in any regard. especially not when it came to his babies-- the car’s he worked on. “special leave?” he scoffed, “that’s a one way street to termination.” thad’s father might not have thought he was fit to run the business, but he at least knew that cutting employees slack in such a manner absolutely would not do. 

thad made a show of johnny’s absence. a performance complete with checking his watch, crossing his arms, huffing, shaking his head, and looking to the people behind him in line with a condescending can you believe this? when johnny took his time returning, thad dug around in the box, flicking his eyes to the worker, “i said one each.” did he have to do everything himself? he pulled out rolls sufficient enough to fix the air duct he and steve had built out to the garage, “how much will it be?” oh thad, impatient as ever. 

John pressed his lips together and decided not to comment. He decided not to say that there was such a thing as general purpose duct tape and general tape. And that this was the first time the other even mentioned anything about electrical tape and how that, as well, was something completely different from duct tape. He kept a patient smile upon his features, got one of the tape rolls out of the box and gave it a light tap. “This one is duct tape. I can go and get some electrical if you need.” John gave the people in line an apologetic nod, choosing to ignore the comment about his staff as well.

And suddenly he remembered very well who this guy was. Thad Bradshaw. John’s occasional visits to the garage, his old place of work as a teenager, couldn’t leave Thad Bradshaw unnoticed. “One roll of duct tape’s nine dollars fifty-eight cents. Electrical is around three. Unless you want a big roll.”

.

“yes, i clearly said i needed both.” thad said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. he understood what it was like to be a working man. it was exhausting and tough work, but that was what made it so rewarding. obviously, this gentleman knew nothing of what that felt like. given that he was having such great difficulty in meeting customer satisfaction. he wouldn’t be surprised if this establishment was in the shitter the next couple of years, but he would save that rant for steve’s willing ears back at the shop.  “i do want a big roll, actually.” he huffed. thad bradshaw was no amateur and a measly, standard size of duct tape would not do for stock at the shop. it was laughable. as if thad hadn’t done enough pushing of the other man around, he gestured to the popsicles and beer on the counter, “and how much for the remainder of my items, sir?” he sneered.

Good morning!

Alexander Skarsgård when he was on set of THE NORTHMAN with his mug from friend and celebrity trainer Magnus Lygdbäck in the new documentary “The Swede behind the Hollywood body” (🇸🇪 “Svensken Bakom Hollywoodkroppen”)

KIT YOUNG and AMITA SUMAN as JESPER FAHEY and INEJ GHAFA

Cole's arrival in Hawkins had been... fitting, to say the least. He'd flown into O'Hare, not at all trusting that folks from Indiana knew how to operate aircraft, and rented the first available sedan-- A Honda something. He hadn't planned ahead at all, and Cole hadn't really driven since he was.... probably twenty-two, so the long drive to Buttfuck, Indiana was an adjustment period.

Even though it had been years since he'd driven, the blowout was not Cole's fault. He's not sure that it was anyone else's, either, when he climbed out of the newly scraped rental and inspected the now-shredded tire. Thankfully, a handsome stranger had arrived just in time to give Cole a lift to his hotel-- a welcome reprieve from the heat and a nice distraction for the night.

But now... now Cole had to get the rental car fixed so he could find Max and get the hell outta Dodge. So much for a quick weekend trip. Hawkins didn't seem to have many options as far as mechanics went, so Cole followed the hotel clerk's directions to the nearest shop and hoofed it like it was 1950. By the time he walked up to the obnoxiously loud shop, Cole's hair was sticking to the back of his neck and he was loosening his tie to help with the heat flushing his face. Fuck, how was Indiana hotter than LA?

He locked eyes with the first mechanic he saw, allowed his gaze to linger as he undid another button to loosen his collar, and cleared his throat impatiently. "Are you busy? I assume you have a tow truck. My car--" he hesitated to include that it was a rental. Cole may not drive, but he knew how these places worked. Anything to add on an extra hundred dollars to somebody desperate. "It blew a tire off I-65." Cole waited, watching the man for a beat before interjecting again: "So, tow truck? I can show you where it is."

today was no exception to being eager to get to work on the cars. thad was even out, shirtless, in the lot working on his junker passion project. it was slow today. most of the noise in the shop likely being music and dicking around. he’d gotten through all the oil changes and tune ups that had come through the shop. it was free reign. that was, until thad heard the familiar crunching of the gravel lot and turned around. before he could even ask can i help you? the man in the very nice suit was already voicing what he needed.

he almost missed what the stranger was saying to him while admiring his red cheeks and the sweat on his forehead. or the way he tugged on his collar. god. thad snapped himself back into it by wiping his forehead with a grease filled rag. his eyebrows threaded as he tried to recall what was being said to him. “not busy.” thad answered a bit belated. blown out tire? no problem. “how far up 65?” he asked, slamming the hood of the truck down.  “it’s .50 cents per mile i have to drive.” thad laid it out, “plus the cost of the tire. if you want to save money though, i don’t recommend the tow.” he explained, condescending. while it was nice to see a man with a decent since of dress around hawkins for once, he looked like...well...a bit of a pansy. there was no way he understood what was being said to him. “if you know what tire size your car has, we can just change it on the highway, pay in advance, then you’re on your way.” thad looked more smug this time when he eyed the customer from head to tow, “if you don’t know your tire size, i just need the make and model.” 

He knew this guy. Of course he knew the guy. He had not quite caught his name but he was familiar. Regular buyer. But a big mouth and even bigger ego. John knew guys like this all too well. Previous jocks who grew into dominant dads, mainly. All bark no bite.

“I am sorry, we are terribly understaffed today.” Which was true in a way. His voice was patient, although there was a hint of boredom wrapping around the edges. Eyes lowered to the cans and he silently hoped the other’s aggressive way of putting them down would make them explode the moment someone tried to open them. Johnny’s gaze returned back and he managed a kind smile for his own amusement. “There must be some in the aisle, for I don’t remember anyone purchasing large amounts of duct tape. But then again, we have different kinds of duct tape; we’ve got general purpose, industrial grade, professional grade, gaffer’s, stucco, true, coated cloth.. you name it. I’m sure some of those must be there.” The ever friendly tone would distract from the fact he was actually mocking the other. That was what being a store owner was all about, right? Feigning friendliness when costumers were rude. They were ’King’, after all.

“Or were you looking for anything specific? If that’s out, I am sure I got some more in the back.”

.

thad felt like this guy was...like he was...being condensing! or whatever that word was that meant look down on someone. well thad was very tall, physically, and socially. he wouldn’t be looked down upon! he’d learned a valuable lesson in all these years, his lack of money didn’t mean he lacked importance. so, he huffed some more, planting his hands even firmer on his body, “do you think i’m stupid, pal?” he asked johnny through gritted teeth, then added, “i’m a working class fellow just like you, buster, i’m a mechanic in fact, i don’t need you to explain tape to me. you didn’t have what i needed.” 

he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to level with the guy, “listen, i’m just asking for some standard issue, gray, duct tape.” thad held up a finger to convey how serious he was, “it has to be gray.” anything else would’ve been tacky, of course. he dropped his hand, then had another idea, “listen, if you’re understaffed, you gotta hire more employees.” it was that simple. some people.

“I am not saying you are stupid, I was simply asking for specifications. Of course you know your tape. So, general purpose. I’ll see what we have.” This guy really seemed in big need for his tape for him to be this.. theatrical about it. His lips pressed further into a smile at the other’s suggestion. This guy was basically a genius, he thought sarcastically. “Understaffed because my cashier is on special leave.” ….Was she, though? “Thank you for the suggestion, though.”

Johnny took a lazy stroll to the backroom, taking his sweet time to get the box that held the most common kind of duct tape he sold. For a moment he wondered why a mechanic would be in such a dire need for the item and he hoped the other wasn’t fixing tires with general purpose duct tape. He came back with the box under his arm and it gave a light thud as he put it on the counter. He decided to bring the entire box so he could immediately refill the empty shelves afterwards. He quickly scribbled a reminder on a nearby notepad to order another box later that day — it was the only way he would remember.

“How many do you need, sir?”

.

“whatever, man.” thad scoffed. he knew what he heard from this johnny fellow. he didn’t need to be gaslit in the melvald’s line. he was so rudely torn from his thoughts with the need to correct the clerk again, “no, not general purpose. i don’t want that flimsy scotch trash. i need duct tape and electrical tape. a roll each.” sure, thad was particular, but he wouldn’t settle for less than what he wanted in any regard. especially not when it came to his babies-- the car’s he worked on. “special leave?” he scoffed, “that’s a one way street to termination.” thad’s father might not have thought he was fit to run the business, but he at least knew that cutting employees slack in such a manner absolutely would not do. 

thad made a show of johnny’s absence. a performance complete with checking his watch, crossing his arms, huffing, shaking his head, and looking to the people behind him in line with a condescending can you believe this? when johnny took his time returning, thad dug around in the box, flicking his eyes to the worker, “i said one each.” did he have to do everything himself? he pulled out rolls sufficient enough to fix the air duct he and steve had built out to the garage, “how much will it be?” oh thad, impatient as ever. 

today, thad was less than pleased with the selection before him-- scotch tape, packing tap, no, no, no! none of this was what he needed! huffing, thad put his hands on his hips and looked from left to right while he angrily waited for an employee to come up and offer him help, but when nobody came, thad was only further outraged. he marched up to the front of the store (stopping only to pick up some popsicles and beers for the work fridge.) slamming the six pack and cardboard container of otter pops down, thad began his monologue, “i would like to buy these...” a deep breath in, “but first, mr....” he craned his neck to read the employee’s name tag, which he reached out and flicked when he was done reading, “mr. johnny, that i waited in aisle seven with no assistance for near ten minutes! how do you run out of duct tape? huh? what kind of establishment even is this?” 

He knew this guy. Of course he knew the guy. He had not quite caught his name but he was familiar. Regular buyer. But a big mouth and even bigger ego. John knew guys like this all too well. Previous jocks who grew into dominant dads, mainly. All bark no bite.

“I am sorry, we are terribly understaffed today.” Which was true in a way. His voice was patient, although there was a hint of boredom wrapping around the edges. Eyes lowered to the cans and he silently hoped the other’s aggressive way of putting them down would make them explode the moment someone tried to open them. Johnny’s gaze returned back and he managed a kind smile for his own amusement. “There must be some in the aisle, for I don’t remember anyone purchasing large amounts of duct tape. But then again, we have different kinds of duct tape; we’ve got general purpose, industrial grade, professional grade, gaffer’s, stucco, true, coated cloth.. you name it. I’m sure some of those must be there.” The ever friendly tone would distract from the fact he was actually mocking the other. That was what being a store owner was all about, right? Feigning friendliness when costumers were rude. They were ’King’, after all.

“Or were you looking for anything specific? If that’s out, I am sure I got some more in the back.”

.

thad felt like this guy was...like he was...being condensing! or whatever that word was that meant look down on someone. well thad was very tall, physically, and socially. he wouldn’t be looked down upon! he’d learned a valuable lesson in all these years, his lack of money didn’t mean he lacked importance. so, he huffed some more, planting his hands even firmer on his body, “do you think i’m stupid, pal?” he asked johnny through gritted teeth, then added, “i’m a working class fellow just like you, buster, i’m a mechanic in fact, i don’t need you to explain tape to me. you didn’t have what i needed.” 

he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to level with the guy, “listen, i’m just asking for some standard issue, gray, duct tape.” thad held up a finger to convey how serious he was, “it has to be gray.” anything else would’ve been tacky, of course. he dropped his hand, then had another idea, “listen, if you’re understaffed, you gotta hire more employees.” it was that simple. some people.

Today was one of those days where he really had to keep himself from redecorating the whole place. Not in a Christmas sorta way, but more like.. moving shit for it to be more convenient? Better looking? Could it look better? Probably not. Besides, these ideas would usually leave Johnny in one of the isles, surrounded by crap, playing with some sort of unimportant object he had never paid attention to before. And would stuff get done? No. It would just be a mess.

Standing still behind the counter and waiting for costumers wasn't really his thing, though. Wasn't that why they hired Jessica? Teenagers liked to stand still, chew gum and give insincere smiles to costumers, right? Then where the hell was she? Oh yeah, right, dental appointment. Or did her grandmother run away again from that nursing home?

today, thad was less than pleased with the selection before him-- scotch tape, packing tap, no, no, no! none of this was what he needed! huffing, thad put his hands on his hips and looked from left to right while he angrily waited for an employee to come up and offer him help, but when nobody came, thad was only further outraged. he marched up to the front of the store (stopping only to pick up some popsicles and beers for the work fridge.) slamming the six pack and cardboard container of otter pops down, thad began his monologue, “i would like to buy these...” a deep breath in, “but first, mr....” he craned his neck to read the employee’s name tag, which he reached out and flicked when he was done reading, “mr. johnny, that i waited in aisle seven with no assistance for near ten minutes! how do you run out of duct tape? huh? what kind of establishment even is this?” 

If Willa doesn’t come back, that’s fine, ‘cause I don’t need love. It’s like a superpower. And if she comes back and doesn’t love me, that’s okay, too, ‘cause I don’t need it.