Beee-booop.

She winced as the alarm went off a fourth time, and then a fifth... and she damn near tried her best to move out of the fucking thing's way, but the doormat just wasn't that big and she wasn't ready to commit to sopping the rest of these peoples floors just yet. The souls of her converse made squeaky wet-noises as she wiped the bottoms of them the best she could, ignoring the constant ringing going off in her ears as she did so. Bee-booop.

Fuck. It wasn't even that warm in here, though she supposed, come to think of it, tattoo parlors were sort of naturally cold, weren't they? Huh... Her gaze drifted momentarily back to the street, peering through the splattered glass and sheets of rain drumming down on the street outside. Maybe some place with food might have been better after all, but Shelby's wistful thinking was soon disrupted by a much gruffer voice than she expected to be met with. She turned instantly, her dark gaze quickly finding the only other person in the lobby who was, admittedly, maybe staring at her with such an unimpressed look that for a moment Shelby forgot where and why she was exactly standing in this man's presence. Oh, right. Rain, tattoo parlor, soaking wet â€" got it. Her brow furrowed a little in embarrassment and she shifted awkwardly in place while trying to keep most of her dignity while feeling more or less like a drowned rat. She wasn't really here for a tattoo... so... that was awkward.

"Uh, well. Yeah.. I-" Bee-boop..
"I just-..." Beeee-booop.
"I just thought-" BEE-BOOP.

The sigh that came out of her lips was more of a frustrated growl and Shelby was about to just take the damn two steps forward to get out of the censors way, but then he made that stupid comment about "ruining his doormat" and the look on Shelby's face was instantly torn between disbelief and mild annoyance. How exactly does one ruin a doormat by standing on it? Or... dripping, in her case. Either way, if he'd rather her drip on his shiny floors then... by all means. She was going to. But he didn't give her the option, and before she knew it there was this fuzzy bath towel strewn at her feet, and all she could do was simply stare at it a moment.

"Er... Yeah, okay. Thanks?"

Bee-boop.

The chain of events that had led up to this moment had taken Shelby so off guard, that it didn't even seem to matter that this towel had seemingly come out of nowhere. Instead she was... grateful? Yeah, sure. Grateful. But she wasn't going to look a gift towel in the mouth. Bending down to grab the fluffy thing she took the time to wipe off the majority of her shoes and legs, followed by the patting of her ankles and skinny jeans. They were soaked towards the bottom. The longer she bent down to dry herself, the less the censor seemed to go off. At least that was something.

When all was said and done, feet as dry as they were possibly going to get, Shelby straightened and finally moved off the doormat much to hers and the censors relief. She left towel where it was, hoping it would be of use to the next victim that walked through his very annoying doorway. "Ah, cool." She reached up a hand to catch the much smaller cloth he offered on her behalf much belatedly, but the size didn't seem to bother her. She used it to wipe the rain off her face and neck, and when she was done, nonchalantly tossed it into a small heap on the far side of the reception desk.

"Thanks," And this time is was far more genuine than the last. "I didn't expect it to come down so suddenly." As the words left her lips her gaze trailed back to the window, her tone thoughtful as it trails off and the sound of rain on the roof briefly overtakes a moment of silence.

"Does it do that a lot?" The question about the weather is curious and light hearted, though her gaze gauges Mr. Grumpy quietly while she tries to decide if he's still upset about his doormat, and whether or not she's forgiven.