liz is our new part time.
strawberry blond. never seen her without it in a ponytail.
she's less than five foot nothing. acts like a promising 12 year old with a weird streak.
she's 30.
nice though.
the more i work with her the more odd she gets.
last time i was trying my hardest to get the store clean for closing while she counter jockeyed, taking care of customers.
i wasn't ten feet away. earshot. sink running. rinsing off the cappuccino machine nozzles.
out of view, but it's a small store. you can hear each other from anywhere in it.
over the sink i hear her sneeze. a couple of times in a row.
when there's a break in customers i get the last piece rinsed and walk around to see her, sour expression.
liz see's me.
" can i go to the bathroom? "
" uh. yeah. sure. "
" i didn't know where you were. "
she stepped out from behind the counter and showed me a wet spot in the crotch of her pants.
" what's that? " i ask.
" um. a customer spilled something. "
there was no evidence of this anywhere else.
" oh. okay. well yeah, go ahead. "
once she's in the bathroom i realize she'd sneezed and pissed herself.
i didn't want to ask her this directly. she seemed embarrassed.
when she came back i was stocking some cigarettes.
" hey. i'm always in earshot. and if i'm not i'll tell you before i go anywhere. just so you know. "
" thanks. "
my name tag says Rob. imagine the would be thief staring at the young clerk with that word pinned to his chest. i won't tell you where or what gas station company, but i work at a convenience store. i serve the scum of the earth. sometimes.
Showing posts with label who doesn't try to call out if they're about to piss themselves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label who doesn't try to call out if they're about to piss themselves. Show all posts
Sunday, April 18, 2010
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