By any definition of the word, Steven was having a bad day. Actually, that may have been understating it.
The tall, thin, glasses-adorned Wilkos employee had gotten off to a bad start right off the bat. An alarm clock snafu had made him nearly an hour late for his shift. On top of that, he'd managed to lose his wallet and cell-phone on the way to work. And as icing on the cake, he'd snapped at his boss, Elizabeth when she grilled him as to why he'd been so late and ended up getting snapped at himself in recompense.
Fortunately, everyone quickly figured out he was in a foul mood and gave him a very wide-berth for the rest of the day. Work troubles, coupled with unpleasant developments at home combined to make him feel downright defeatist as the morning turned to afternoon.
Elizabeth, still a bit sour herself after their earlier confrontation found Steven resetting some shelves and walked up to him, her hands on her hips. "I hope you're attitude has improved."
Steven gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry...it was just such a god-awful morning."
Elizabeth frowned. "I understand that Steven, but that's no excuse for you taking your frustrations out on me. We all have our issues now and then, but those issues should be dropped when we clock in." She walked over and put a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "You've done a good job of keeping everyone at arm's length with all of the frowning and moping today, haven't you?'
Steven sighed. "I'm sorry. I know it isn't very professional..." Steven trailed off, his shoulders slumping.
"As I said, we all have our bad spells. Look, why don't you get away from the customers and all of us for a bit. Grab a broom and dustpan and go out to the parking lot. Gather up what you can, but more importantly, get some fresh air and space." She smiled.
Steven did his best to smile back. "Thank you."
Not long after, he walked around the edge of the lot, sweeping up errant debris, candy wrappers, and old cigarette butts. Try as he might, he just couldn't shake the melancholy and ennui that had buried him over the course of the day. He was so lost in his thoughts, as a matter of fact, that he was startled when a voice called out to him.
"Life got ya down, bean-pole?" An elderly, downright scratchy voice cackled from behind him.
Whirling around, broom and dustpan in hand, Steven did his best not to snap at the probably customer. "I've no complaints. Can I help you sir? Lost your car?"
The man looked positively disheveled. He wore a mismatched tweed suit, a bold crimson bow-tie, and carried a time-worn umbrella. His white hair was wild and unkempt, giving him the look of a man who'd french-kissed a light-socket. He smiled at Steven. "No complaints? Ahh...I'd wager you have plenty. I've been around and about long enough to recognize one weary of their lot in life, and of this world."
Steven gave him a VERY skeptical look. "Well, that must come in handy at parties and such. Look, if you don't have a question about the store or lot, and just want to jabber about how I look or feel, I can't help you. So, if you don't mind..."
"Are you familiar with the concept of parallel universes? Quantum-mechanically speaking?" The old man came closer, leaning on his umbrella.
Steven almost took a step back. "Sure. I've seen Dr. Who and read a comic book or two. What of it?"
"I think you would benefit from a different perspective. I think you would do well to be a different you." The old man gave him a wink.
Steven couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of the conversation. "Well sure. Who wouldn't want to trade up in my shoes. Do you have a specific parallel me in mind?"
"A few come to mind. I've been looking them over while we've been speaking." The old man answered, as he seemed to look over Steven's shoulder, off into the distance at nothing in particular.
"Lovely. I'd like to step into a rich me's shoes then. Rich and famous." Steven went back to sweeping up debris.
"Rich. Famous. Is that it?" The old man picked his umbrella up, tightening his grip.
"Make me a royal while your at it. I might as well go all out." Steven rolled his eyes as he swept up another cigarette butt.
"Royal? I have just the thing!" The old man snapped back into the present. Hefting his umbrella up like a cricket bat, he swung hard at the unsuspecting Steven, hitting him in the back of the head.
Completely unprepared, Steven went sprawling forward, the impact actually knocking him unconscious for a bit.
Steven climbed off of his belly, rubbing the back of his head just a few seconds later. "You crazy old...!!!" he yelled, trailing off as he realized the old man in the mismatched tweed suit that had clobbered him was nowhere to be seen.
Getting up, he looked around and couldn't find any sign of him. "What in the Hell...". Angry and confused, he grabbed the broom and dustpan and began walking back toward the store. He made it halfway before he realized that something was wrong.
He didn't notice it right off, but as he neared the building he realized that instead of Wilko's, the signage above the store now read Wilken's. Glancing to a nearby shop, he noticed that now the salon that had been named Beautylicious seemed to be called Beauty-Call.
Steven was incredibly confused. Was this some kind of joke? One of those stupid reality tv "gotcha" joke things? Looking down at himself, he noticed that his clothing had changed a bit as well. His formerly red work polo was now a navy blue, and his name-tag now read Stephen.
That's when it hit him. All of the old man's parallel universe talk. Was he in an alternate reality?!?! Was he a different Steven, this Stephen?!?! He practically ran back into the store.
Once inside, everything looked normal enough, but after he moved in a few aisles he began to spot subtle differences. All of the other employees were wearing blue polos too, though they seemed to be the same familiar faces he was used to. But, glancing at the products on display, he could see that while some of them were the same, many had different names and packaging that were unknown to him.
"Are you okay, Stephen?" Steven recognized the voice of Liz, the short, blond, busty staff supervisor he genuinely considered his friend.
Turning around, almost relieved he answered, "I'm not sure. Something kind of weird happened out in the lot and now I'm a bit..." he trailed off as he got a good look at Liz.
The formerly tomboyish manager did NOT look her usual plain-Jane self. Still busty, her blue work shirt was tighter and more form-fitting, hugging her curves. She looked to be a bit thinner, as if she regularly exercised. Her dark jeans were better fitted as well, hugging her broad, full hips and slightly smaller than usual ass. She seemed a little taller, but Steven quickly figured out that that was due to her wearing high heeled ankle boots that gave her at least 3 more inches of height. More than all of that, she now had expertly applied makeup, and her blond hair was styled and highlighted with the same care. Liz looked amazing, feminine, pretty, and totally unlike herself!
Looking at her name-tag, Steven found himself whispering "Lynn...?" aloud.
"You look like you've seen a ghost?" Liz-now-Lynn looked genuinely concerned as she felt the now-paler Steven's head.
Steven was at a complete loss. Either he was the victim of a very large, very elaborate, very weird joke, or he had been transported to an alternate version of the Earth he had been born on. Before he could even attempt to answer Liz-now-Lynn, Waggy (or whatever she went by here) broke the silence by yelling so loud that the nearly the whole store could hear her. "They're here! They're at our store!!! Her Majesty's Joining Council!!!"
"Her Majesty's what?" Steven managed to ask as Liz-now-Lynn looped her arm under his and led him out the front doors amidst a horde of other employees and customers.
"THE council, silly!!! You really are out of it! Oh God, I hope they picked me!!! Can you imagine?!?!" Liz-now-Lynn practically squealed with girlish delight.
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