How To Be Civilized, Friday, Period 3
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"They're my work gloves," Mae said, the 'obviously' going unspoken. "And . . . making it?"
Torturing it, probably.
"They're work gloves," Mae said again. "You said they counted if they were used."
She was going to make you regret all your life decisions this semester, Seivarden.
"And . . . eventually?" Wait, what had the video said? Mae had been laughing too hard by that point to really listen. ". . . When the laser pointer says it's ready?"
Mae looked at the tea on the table. "It's taking a nap."
You try not spilling with poorly fitted, bargain brand work gloves.
Really? Because it sure as heck sounded to Mae like Seivarden was telling her to wear socks on her hands next week.
"I'll clean it up," she said. "Where's the little scoopy netty thing?"
The infuser. It was called an infuser.
"The thing!" Mae said. Because that would help. "That you put the leaf debris in. The pool cleaner but for tea." She drew a little shape in the air, but that likely wasn't going to be all that effective even without the floppy too-long workglove fingers.
Mae looked over. Lana was apparently very excited about her new . . . thing? Alright. Mae gave her a thumbs up -- well, she turned her hand so the floppy glove thumb was on top, anyway, and grinned back.
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