//------------------------------//
// Crinkles 
// Story: Lost of thoughts 
// by CraftAids 
//------------------------------//

The front desk lady looked out of the glass doors. Her knees rested on the counter and her forehooves were steepled, a triangle forming between her forelegs and the counter. She wiggled slightly from side to side. On the counter, there were loofahs to the right and moth balls and scrunchies to the right. The countertop was glass, with a menu visible inside it. She looked left, down the hall. The steam room was steamy. The massage room door was closed, but it could be assumed that ponies were in there. The same could be said for basically every other door in the spa. She may have already observed every decoration and read every bit of text in the lobby and then every other nook and cranny of the building, but it was still better than nothing.

The one place she wasn't looking was at the light grey pony sitting in one of the lobby chairs. She  was a professional in a professional establishment and she wouldn't oogle her customers and make them uncomfortable. Similarly, she would not bat a loofah back and forth across the glass, and she would definitely never shoot moth balls into the plant pots using scrunchies.

Whenever the bell over the door jingled, she came right out. On these occasions, counted times a day, she expected to either make an appointment or check someone in. Instead, this grey guy was just sitting in the lobby waiting and forcing her to keep it manned. He just sat there, mumbling to himself occasionally and avoiding eye contact with her. She stared at out the glass doors at the empty streets and empty, still yards.

They waited.

They heard a door open down the hallway. They both turned their heads. A mare came out of the hall with bags over her back. The mare approach to the counter and scooped a hoof-full of small gold coins out of her bag and onto the counter. Still sitting here, he followed the mare with his eyes and opened and closed his mouth and raised one hoof, but didn't say anything. The lady chatted with the mare for a moment and  marked the transaction as complete in the appointment book and arranged another appointment. The mare thanked her and walked past him and out of the front door while he mumbled to himself. The door closed and the doorbell let out a little ring.

The waiting resumed. She was looking at him until his eyes flicked up at her. They were looking at the wall and glass door, respectively, after that. As yet more moments of her life were used at that desk, making her small business dreams come true one agonizing millisecond after another agonizing millisecond followed by another agonizing millisecond, she wondered if there was anything she could really do about it. When he had first arrived and sat down, she had asked him if she could help with anything. “No. Uh, no... Thank you,” he had responded, so she resisted the urge to ask again.

They heard the door open. Both of them turned their heads. He got up and walked to the hallway corner. A mare walked out and noticed him standing there. “Hey, uh…” He sat and pointed a hoof at a nearby stand. “That, um… over there… buy me that soap, please.”

The mare had her mouth in her bag and pulled out some coins. She looked at him and let out a muffled “No.” before spitting them onto the counter. She said, “Next Sunday at 5,” and trotted out of the building.

The lady recorded the payment and appointments. He sat back down in the lobby chair. The lady put away her binder and glanced between the soap and the grey inconvenience. She wiggled her butt slightly on the high stool. Just giving him the bar was sounding like a great idea. She turned and dangled her legs. A hallway door opened and she sat right back on her chair. He moved and sat next to the hallway’s corner, right next to the display stand with the soap. A mare walked out.

“Yo.” The mare looked at him. He fidgeted slightly. “Could you buy me this soap?” He pointed a hoof to a white bar of soap wrapped in plastic. “Please.”

The mare looked at the stand. “No way, that's expensive. You're getting the cheap stuff.” She walked up to the display stand and bit into a white bar of soap wrapped in plastic sitting right next to the white bar of soap wrapped in plastic he had pointed at. She put it on the counter with a single coin on top of it and a pile of coins next to it.

The lady took the coins and pushed the bar away before pulling out a binder in writing in another friday appointment. He took the bar and said something approaching thank you, the soap in his mouth garbling his words.

He left, the mare left, and the lady sighed and hopped off her stool. She opened the drawer and pulled out a lighter and a roll of tobacco-equivalent product. She walked out of the back door and at least 30 feet away from the spa, like someone who cares about the smell in their relaxation and health based business.