Working Hard or Hardly Working? -

The dim, unfriendly glare of the lights flickered in the cramped quarters of the stock rooms. Voices all around clamored in the haphazard to-do list lingering in the mall's early-bird employees. Plodding footsteps mingled with the rickety screech of rolling wheels and rumbling boxes. Everyone moved at a frantic pace as the clock ticked away at their Christmas morn', except for one unsuspecting retail employee.

Vince was but a lowly sales worker in the men's fashion department, yet he arrived an hour earlier when his presence wasn't even needed. For the past hour, Vince scanned the clothing with a scrutinizing gaze and at his leisure compared to his colleagues. He weaved his hands across the cotton blend shirts, feeling the soft, smooth texture sink into his fingers.

"Thin at the chest panel. Good drape, but the weave would show stress after repeated wear. Only for light demos"

He muttered, his mind already jotting down the details with precision. Trotting to another shelf, he dug into an untouched box, carefully procuring a new batch of winter sweaters before pressing his fingers into the fabric.

"Hmm... Heavier knit. good elasticity for cashmere."

He pressed both fingers and squeezed the sweater firmly.

"Stitching along the shoulder seams held straight, minimal warping under tension. Demo safe."

Vince mumbled as he drifted from shelf to shelf, peering through the merchandise. The worker observed each aspect of the clothing, extensively memorizing their qualities, their appearance, and their durability. A dozen or so times he gleamed through the shelves, fully engrossed in his thoughts and unfazed by the world around him. As the clock struck 9:30, his eyes suddenly dilated, his senses snapping back to reality.

"That should be more than enough for today's shift."

---

The day began without a hitch. Customers arrived in droves for the exclusive Christmas sales. As soon as customers dared to have the confidence to question Vince, his demeanor flipped on its head. A young man, no older than 20, strolled up, asking the burly worker with a soft-spoken request.

"Excuse me, is it true to all sizes, especially for me?"

Vince's idle scowl loosened softly. Taking the dress shirt in his hands and letting the fabric caress his skin, his mind immediately circulated and pinpointed the exact piece of info he needed.

"Ah, you have quite good taste, sir. Yes indeed, this Brockerty pinstripe dress shirt is quite flexible. It fits for all sizes, whether petite or large."

Vince's resonant voice echoed with a charismatic timbre. The dimples beneath his eyes creased as he smiled warmly, amplifying his approachability as he leaned against the racks.

"If you would like, I could test out its durability myself. That way you can be certain you're buying a guaranteed high-quality product."

His silver eyes met the expectant, slightly enthused gaze of the customer.

"O-oh, sure, I'd like that."

Vince's warm smile briefly showed a hint of pride before he took the garment gently. Right before the customer's eyes, Vince deftly unbuttoned his own attire with the deft and agility of his fingers. Much to the customer's surprise, Vince had neglected to wear an undershirt beneath. Whether that was intentional or not was up for debate.

Vince's firm pecs tightened as the cool AC air hit him. He languidly slid his attire off his broad shoulders. The man's short, coarse chest hair caused the customer's eyes to almost widen in disbelief. Vince seemed unperturbed, simply undressing himself with an unintentional flare.

"This model uses a mid-weight cotton blend. It's woven tight enough to hold structure, but there's enough give to make it comfortable and flexible."

He airily slid the dress shirt on without a hitch. Much to the customer's surprise, the fabric didn't yield to Vince's bulk. It stretched tightly across his broad pecs, the seams tightening visibly, yet they held firm without a single instance of distortion or creaking.

He drew in a huge breath, his chest expanding before the customer's eyes. The worker's hirsute pecs burgeoned further with his measured inhaling, attempting to overwhelm the clothing's strengths with its seemingly limitless inflation.

Yet mid-inhale, Vince stopped short. His eyes subtly twitched at the faint yet noticeable tightening around the shoulder seams. Not wanting to damage the fabric, much less lose a potential customer, he relaxed his chest enough to let the fabric settle naturally. His fingers lifted to smooth the front panel, intentionally misdirecting the almost accidental mishap with a playful chuckle.

"Notice how the fabric sits flush when at rest. That's the benefit of a tighter weave. It holds shape without needing constant tension."

Vince then performed a series of flexes for a show of durability. He raised his arm, tensing his bicep until it bulged and peaked beneath the clothing. Locking his burly arms behind his head as he strained against the fabric. His biceps swelled and rippled beneath the dress shirt, the cotton blend stretching taut around the sinewy mass. He rolled his broad shoulders back and forth, the seams groaning almost imperceptibly under the sudden tension.

Thrusting his hirsute chest forward, Vince's pecs strained against the confines of the shirt, the front panel stretching drum-tight across his expansive torso. The young man watched in awe as Vince contorted his body in various poses, each one designed to showcase the shirt's durability in the face of even the most strenuous conditions.

Throughout the impromptu showcase, Vince maintained a friendly, almost apologetic grin. He made no attempt to ham it up or draw attention to his physique, knowing that any excess ego would only serve to alienate the impressionable youth. Instead, he focused on the task at hand - educating his customer about the quality of the product.

"There's a reason this shirt is one of our bestsellers. The weave is dense enough to hold its shape, even under immense pressure. And the stitching is reinforced to prevent tears or fraying, even with repeated stress."

As he spoke, he continued to move through a series of subtle flexes, his body a testament to the craftsmanship of the garment. His intentions remained purely educational, and his demeanor reflected a sense of professionalism and dedication to his craft.

"I'll take it!"

Vince nodded in satisfaction, grabbing an extra copy before handing it to the customer.

"I'm glad you made the right choice, sir. Don't be afraid to raise any concerns with me."

He politely waved with another successful sale in his head. Reaching for his tie, he quickly slid off the demo attire, back into his typical crisp dress shirt once more but not before smoothening the front of the shirt. Just as then, Vince quickly shifted back to being idle yet hyperaware. His arms folded, staring prolongingly at the price tags before lingering onto another figure.

He could feel the hesitation from them, and he clocked it immediately.

Adjusting the cuff at his wrist, he approached at an unhurried pace, the same reassuring act he had done dozens of times without fail. He stopped right before you, a crooked, courteous smile etched on his masculine face.

"Good morning."

Vince politely greeted.

"If you have any concerns, don't be afraid to ask. I can walk you through any fit if you'd like."