Before Joel had taken ownership, his garage had once been some sort of welding shop. He remembered walking the empty floor with the commercial real estate broker before they’d closed on the property and the welding dust that had been all over [i]literally[/i] everything. What a pain it had been to clean up. Inside, he’d kept the old office area largely intact. The upstairs had been a conference room combined with two other small offices and a few years ago he’d decided to consolidate and make the area a living space. That project was still unfinished, but the shop floor was a pristine wonder. Blueish-gray tile shined in a semi-gloss finish that continued halfway up the wall with a black border that separated the bright white that continued up to the blacked out ceiling. New light fixtures hung along with air and electrical lines for his usage. 

Behind the back wall office area was Joel’s main toolbox: a royal blue affair with polished handles and various drawers and doors containing a myriad of tools, all neatly organized. The entire assembly was taller than he was and featured various electrical hookups in a center desk area for convenience. He kept a laptop in the center along with a high stool where he sat briefly researching topics completely unrelated to his present work. A visitor would notice this small section of the shop, not visible from the outside, was slightly more personal than the sterilized main floor. Several pictures hung of him with past friends and events, many featuring the car presently in the back of the shop. Trophies of various dates were tucked away on a small ledge above along with framed certificates and letters. The radio blared and he paid no mind to the visitor that had sauntered in with her injured scooter. 

He swiveled on the stool and found the younger female standing there. Freezing in place he shot a slightly dumbfounded double-take toward her, his eyes confirming to his brain that there was indeed another person in the shop and right in front of him. [i]Wait, what day is this?[/i] Was his first thought. [i]Damn, I left the door open...[/i] was his second thought. “Huh?” Was all that managed to register out of his mouth. He reached back to the laptop while eyeing the damaged scooter and eased down the volume. [i]Shit I like that song too, what hell is this?[/i] His eyes scanned the small scooter, a Vespa, which looked to have taken some cosmetic damage then to its apparent driver who looked as if she had taken some fashion damage. [i]Not that bad Joel, you did leave the door open, you dumbass.[/i] His mental notes continued. 

Since she had apparently pushed it in, he figured it wasn’t running. Simple a machine as it was, he was still a little curious. He’d never touched a Vespa and hers seemed to be a pretty old one, but still in surprisingly good kit. [i]Interesting[/i]. He remembered once hearing that some of them could be worth more than a few dollars. As was his custom, the first thing he did after hopping down was pop the seat up and see if there was fuel inside. “So what happened?” He asked, still glancing it over. It briefly occurred to him that the tasteful aroma of Jeep gear oil still hung on his long sleeve t-shirt and shorts. 

[@Desparadina]


Joel's Shop Radio #2
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3bwDb2piZs[/youtube]