We are in single digits on the countdown. I can hardly believe it.
I sleep with things in my bed. Right now I have a Twilight Zone box set and a blackbird, fly that I slept with last night, not to mention the usual cell phone and hair clips.
The other day at work one of our regulars had a break down. I mean, explosion. He looks homeless, turns out he has a job. Nevertheless, he needs to reconnect with the shower. His wallet is a gallon, zip-top bag. He keeps that in a plastic grocery bag. He pays 2.94 once a week to keep all his loans current. And when he is waiting at the counter he rattles those bags something fierce. I try not to look to see what he is doing. I keep my eyes on the computer. So, this Monday he comes in and it was busy. There was a regular in front of him that was taking a while and she asking a lot of questions. The whole time he stands behind her and rattles the bag and does some heavy breathing. The woman keeps looking back, I could see the fear in her eyes. When he finally gets to the counter he is acting like he is in a hurry. I'm thinking your homeless what have you got to rush for, then he says that he is going to lose his job over this. He then rushes some more, fruitlessly. When the transaction is done he runs to the door. Then, the strap of his grocery bag breaks half way through the door. He is the only one anywhere near the door. Half in and half out of the store he yells, "FUCK! GET OUT OF MY WAY, BITCH!" Funny. I have re-played that in my head so many times since it has happened. My co-worker does a damn good impression of it.
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