Layton Drownout 2020

Straight Milk

Summary: Hershel Layton encounters one of the nightmarish realities of working in retail.

"Excuse me?"

Hershel looked around from the shelf, careful not to drop the eggs as he positioned them beside the milk.

"Yes, miss?" he said as politely as he could. "How may I help you?"

The woman held up a bottle of milk, its contents sloshing with the motion.

"Can you please tell me where I'll find the straight milk?" she asked.

The young student blinked in bemusement.

"I'm... sorry?" He returned to stocking the eggs; no reason to neglect his work and get his manager angry at him for not meeting his quota.

"The straight milk!" the woman insisted. "I don't want gay milk, I want straight milk! But all the milk I can find is gay!"

Hershel bit back the myriad of questions he wanted to ask about milk having a sexual orientation.

"My apologies, miss," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

The woman rolled her eyes. Hershel worried for a moment that the motion might dislodge one of the many layers of mascara she had applied.

"Every single bottle in this damn place says the milk is homogenised!" she spat. "And I don't want my kids drinking that and turning gay! Tell me where I can find the HETERO-genised milk!"

Hershel blinked in bafflement again.

That was what she meant?!

"...um..." He scratched his cheek with one finger. Was there any way he could explain the label without provoking an outburst from this woman?

"I said tell me where I can find it!" she barked at him. "This is Sainsbury's, for pity's sake! If I wanted service like this, I would've gone to the Co-op!"

"I'm very sorry, miss!" Hershel spluttered. "I'm afraid there's no such thing as hetero-genised milk! We only have homogenised-"

"Rubbish!" She slammed the bottle down on the shelf and Hershel flinched at the sight. "I know for a fact this shop knows better than to push some gay agenda! You find me the straight milk right now or I'll be filing a complaint!"

"H-homogenised milk doesn't have anything to do with homosexuality," Hershel stammered. "I-it's all about making the fats smaller so that-"

"And now you're calling me FAT?!"

"No! N-no, I-I didn't-"

"That's it!" She grabbed his skinny wrist and yanked him away from the shelves. "We're going to go and speak to your manager!"

Hershel dug his heels in, but it didn't do much good on the slick lino floor. He writhed in the stranger's grip, but no matter how he twisted and turned, he couldn't get his hand free. He stumbled and staggered and struggled to stay on his feet as she dragged him down the aisle, still ranting under her breath, but no matter what, he just couldn't get away-

"Excuse me?"

The gentle voice stopped the woman in her tracks.

"Is something wrong?" The girl adjusted her glasses as she approached.

"This doesn't concern you, young lady!" the woman spat. "Mind your own business!"

"I just wanted to know what was wrong!" She raised her hands defensively. "I hoped that perhaps I could help! And maybe you wouldn't have to get an employee into trouble for no reason!"

She was about Hershel's age, he realised, and rather pretty now that he was paying attention. No doubt she was just here to do a spot of grocery shopping. He could see tea bags and eggs in her basket, so she was obviously just restocking her necessities.

And he'd allowed her to be inconvenienced...

"If you must know," the older woman sighed, "this young man was refusing to tell me where I can find the straight milk! Do you know where it is?"

"Well-"

"I won't have my children drinking homo milk and turning gay!"

"Sainsbury's doesn't sell 'straight' milk," said the girl, tapping on her chin in thought, "but I think I saw some when I was in the Lidl across town last week. You might have to go and take a look for yourself."

At long last, the iron grip on Hershel's wrist was released, and he immediately clutched his arm against his chest to massage some feeling back into his hand.

"Thank you," said the older woman. "At least someone here has the common decency to help a customer! We just can't rely on these pathetic minimum-wage workers anymore, can we?"

The girl didn't reply. She threw a glance of worry in Hershel's direction, but Hershel was too busy rubbing his arm to respond.

"I suppose I'll try Lidl then," said the woman. "This place has officially lost my business!"

And with that, she stomped away.

Hershel heaved a sigh of relief.

"I'm sure they'll miss you terribly," the girl said flatly.

He still didn't reply. He had a terrible feeling his wrist was going to end up horribly bruised.

"Are you alright?"

The girl was still there, watching him with wide-eyed concern.

"Um..." Hershel swallowed. "Yes. Y-yes, I'll be fine. I just didn't expect to encounter such an unpleasant person while I was at work."

"I overheard what she said to you," said the girl, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I can't believe such unintelligent people could exist! If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was just in a bad mood and thought you looked like an easy target!"

Hershel cringed. He didn't dare pull his sleeve back and see what might have happened to his arm.

"Did she hurt you?" asked the girl.

He looked at her again. Oh dear, she really was extraordinarily pretty...

"I'll find some ice for it while I'm on my break," he assured her. "In the meantime, I should finish restocking the eggs."

"But you shouldn't have to just pretend nothing happened!" cried the girl. "Do you want me to report her to your manager? We could probably get her barred from the shop! You'd never have to put up with that nonsense again!"

"N-no," Hershel replied nervously. "I couldn't possibly..."

The girl sighed.

"Then would you at least let me buy you dinner?"

Hershel froze.

"Excuse me?" Surely he had misheard her!

"Or at least a cup of tea from a café!" said the girl. "Once your shift is over. Something to make up for having to deal with such a horrible woman!"

A pretty girl was offering to take him out...

Hershel swallowed again.

"I'd like that," he said. "That sounds... that would be very nice, thank you. My shift ends at 5pm."

The girl smiled brightly at him.

"I'll wait for you!" she said happily. "I know just the place. They're open until 9pm and they have over twenty varieties of tea! It's fantastic!"

Twenty varieties... that did sound nice.

"I'm Hershel, by the way," he said, offering his uninjured hand for her to shake. "Hershel Layton."

She smiled and shook his hand.

"Claire Foley," she replied. "It's very nice to meet you, Hershel."