Tales From The Clerk

They stream in, one by one, oblivious to who I am. In a mindless uniform, I stand poised behind the counter, awaiting them, "at their service", and to them, I'm low in the worldly ranks of career status and financial stability.

The life of a sales clerk is rarely fun, but it's definitely been a necessary evil in my life, making my spirit stronger, and filling me with a wealth of knowledge I would've never had without it.

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He was chubby, approaching the counter at break-neck speed so he could have a quick and painless transaction. So hurridly in fact, he didn't answer me when I said "Hello" and "will there be anything else for you"? In each hand, a thirty-two ounce slushy, each only filled half way with blue and red slush.

In some ways, I felt bad for him. He seemed so downright careless about those around him, as if something in his life had caused him to withdraw into a tight shell.

Just then, he sat the two lidless cups on the slanted face of the lottery machine.

"Why?" I thought to myself. "How could a person be so fucking dumb?"

It made no sense to me why he did what he did, and as he fumbled for his wallet I reached out to grab the cups as the nature of gravity took affect and pulled the cups sideways down into the nest of wiring and electronic equipment behind my register.

In my mind, it was all in slow motion. I watched the slush just sort of flop out of the cups, and create an awful mess.

"Uh oh." he muttered.

Not a "sorry", or "oh my god". This particular "uh oh" spoke words of a different kind. It was almost as if it was "too bad for you", or "sorry about your luck".

In all reality, I wanted to take a big sloppy handful of the slush and throw it right in that stupid bastard's face. And then, after the fact, say "uh oh", and make a mockery of his lack of respect, and absolute stupidity.

I mean...who the hell sits cups on a slanted surface?