Dunsmore, 1996

“Dad, you're not going to be too long in here, right? Roy is picking me up at 7,” Pam Beesly sighed as she and her father entered Halpert Hardware.

“Oh Pam, don't worry. I wouldn't want to keep dear Roy waiting. I just need to pick up the hardware your mother ordered for the cabinets and we'll be out of here. Anyways, you were the one who volunteered to drive me, so quit complaining.” Frank Beesly shook his head and purposefully marched up the isle.

“Well, I just want to get some more practise in before my test,” she called, rolling her eyes.

Pam meandered through stacks of nails, screws, gadgets and power tools. She stopped and looked with curiosity at a large clamp, winding the handle in and out. It was a perfect design. She loved the way the shiny inclined plane fit perfectly with the grooves it wrapped around. Maybe she would sketch it when she got home.

Pam set the clamp back on the shelf, turned to try and find her dad and walked right into a very large box that seemed to be floating in mid-air. She fell to the ground with a thump and saw that there were two very long legs attached to the box.

“Oh my god, are you ok?,” said the face that was attached to the legs.

“Um...yeah. You should really watch where you're going,” Pam said quietly.

“Here, let me help you up.” The tall, lanky boy pulled Pam up with ease and nervously tried to contain a smile.

“So...,” Pam squinted and looked at his name tag, “Jim, do you make a habit of knocking people over?”

“Uhhh...,” his voice cracked, “No, I...look, I'm really sorry. This place is usually dead this time of day and I was just unloading the truck and...” Jim snickered and covered his mouth with his hand. “I'm sorry, but man, you really flew there.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Pam said with a knitted brow and crossed arms. She tried to keep a straight face, but the whole situation was kind of funny. Seconds later they were both giggling uncontrollably.

“You should really take up boxing or something...get it, boxing?” Jim said mockingly.

“Ha ha. You are hilarious.”

Jim took a bow and with a flourish of his hands said, “Thank you.” He crept his hands in his pockets. “Umm...so, you know my name, but you don't have a name tag, so I don't know yours.”

Pam smiled and reached out her hand, “I'm--”

“Pam...let's go!”

“That's my dad. I gotta go.” She pulled her hand away, brushed past Jim and quickly left the store.

“Nice bumping into you,” Jim whispered with a lopsided smile as he stared at the door.

“Jim?!?! Where are those boxes?”

“Right here Uncle Pete.”

Jim picked up the boxes and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of the store.