Very little time passed before the neighborhood started streaming into the store. Kids, a lot of kids out at 12:30 am moving in groups and craving candy. I really didn't know the price of anything not marked and was guessing prices to the point of starting to actually worry that I might be out of line here at the 7-11.
Refusing to accept that this was over my head (and how could I have ever lived with that conclusion) I bore down and started getting good at it. Jaunty even. A petite blond with nice features and long hair came in placed a candy bar on the counter, grinned at me and then opened her mouth widely. A small butterfly flew out - it was only 1:00 am.
After a couple of rushes, during which my change giving skills were questioned (I just capitulated and gave them whatever amount they felt they deserved) I experienced a lull. Whew!
It was strange how when activity halted and the store emptied - a real existential loneliness would almost instantly descend. Perhaps it was the buzzing fluorescent bulbs whose almost x-ray intensity set all shadows into a high hard-edge relief and made all the colored objects look foreign and strange. Never did figure out why that feeling came on so quickly in there.
A professionally dressed woman walked in at about 2:00 am or so. By now I was feeling almost confident and competent. She asked for a 'hot pretzel'. I had noticed that there was a delicious looking pretzel being warmed buy two spot light bulbs in a case setting up on top of the slushy machine.
Obligingly, I climbed up on the counter and reached across to the pretzel case. While standing on the counter looking down I noted to the professional looking customer that these pretzels must not be too popular because the tight fitting top to the case was very dusty.
After some effort I pried the top off the case, lifted the golden brown pretzel off its little hooks put it on a napkin and handed it to her. She stood there looking at it for just a brief moment then proceeded to the microwave. She nuked it for a minute, removed it, put it back on the napkin then walked back to me. I was watching her and waiting behind the counter in my smock and paper hat.
There was lime-green smoke coming off the pretzel. She asked me, the obvious expert "is that OK?". I said with as much authority as possible "Yeah, that's the pretzel." She paid my made up price (85 cents) and went on her way.
The shift tumbled down through the rest of the dark night for what seemed a really long time. Eight hours to a kid is tough. Then to my great joy I saw the sky start to lighten. A bird was heard singing. And my manager returned to the 7-11.
He asked if it had gone OK. Wanting to impress him I said yeah showed him the log of what I had eaten (I'd actually given my food away but that is another story) and asked him .." What's up with those pretzels?" As I asked him I naturally looked up at the now empty pretzel case.
He followed my glance and said "......?".
He looks up again at the case and said, kind of alarmed now;
"Man you sold that shit? Man that was the display pretzel --- MAN that shit been VARNISHED, the pretzels are in the freezer." He looked really worried and asked me a few more questions- I told him about the green smoke, and he kind of anxiously of let it go. He was quiet for a while then gently said,
"Come in early tonight I'll show you how some shit works man. See you later." Nice guy.
I sold the fucking display pretzel for 85 cents.
Next: how I learned about MOJO, by giving out a free burger.
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2 comments:
Nice.
Your writing reminds me of another person I once encountered online. He was from Indianapolis and went by some variation of Rhino.
Any serendipity there?
I think there is serendipity there Trouble. And thanks for reading this little story.
It isn't me however. I took my online name from a Adrian Belew record and have never been to Indy.
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