Jorgy was a little too in awe of the place as he arrived to notice that no one had been there to greet him, in truth, because he’d never been here or knew what to expect, he would not have been surprised or disappointed. He was able to take in all the sights and sounds and smell on his own. How could such a wondrous place like this exist? The more things he smelled, the more flabbergasted he became. He had seen so many things, smelled so many things, tasted so many things since his arrival to the Shire but nothing compared to this place. Pearl would take about the great kitchen in the sky sometimes, apparently a place where hobbits would go when they got old. Was this that place? Was Jorgy dead? Wait, what?! The young hobbit panicked momentarily until he realized that believing oneself to be dead was often a sign that, in fact, one was not dead. He checked his pockets dutifully though, as if the napkin, charcoal pencil, and roll of stamps would confirm he was still within the mortal coil. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive, and still a hobbit. He didn’t want to die again, heaven knows what he might turn into next, an elf maybe, or a grapevine. There was no real rhyme or reason to it.
Presently though, Jorgy realized he was being watched, something in the back of his still technically reptile brain. He whirled around (moving fast enough to lose his hold on the roll of stamps he was still holding) and looked ready to flee until he saw who it was. Even though he’d never met this woman, she had the look of someone he could trust so, inevitably, he did. She almost smelled like the brewery and that made him like her even more.
“I’m Jorgy!” he announced loudly. “Jorgy Underash, at your service. It is very nice to meet you Mrs. Istya!” Pearl told him that bowing every time he introduced himself wasn’t necessary, but Jorgy was not always paying attention to her lessons. He bowed extra low to Mrs. Istya, so low that he nearly tumbled over. He had to do a little jig on his feet to make sure he didn’t lose his balance (he’d already lost his stamps). “You do tours of this place?” he asked in sheer wonderment. “That’s amazing!” He looked about the place and grinned from ear to ear (the normal way Jorgy grinned obviously). “Why I’d never heard of this place before today. I… I think it’s the most amazing place I’ve ever been.”
What did he want here? He had clearly come along here with some sort of plan (no, no he hadn’t) but as soon as he was assailed by all the blissful joy of the brewery he’d forgotten everything he had meant to do when he got here. What was it? Something about chocolate ale? Or was it chocolate and ale? Strawberries maybe? Jorgy’s brain was working overtime (no, no it wasn’t) and he simply could not remember.
“I’d love to…” he drew out the last word as his brain reached for the first thing within reach “… ask if you were hiring!”
That was, not what expected to ask, but the words were out there in the universe! His turn as a detective sergeant were not going as well as he’d hoped and he was just learning how to not burn the cookies when he put them in the oven. Maybe he could find a place here?
