Kelly, early twenties, wearing a blue apron and a name tag.
KELLY: I’m so tired of this fucking shit. Ya know? Day in day out I come to this stupid Every-Mart, stock shelves, punch the register, and work with Carl. I can’t stand Carl, and I don’t think he can stand me either, but we’re stuck working together every day so we deal with it. Pretend we’re friends. My manager is always in the back, tells Carl and me to take turns stocking the shelves, and comes out once every two hours to evaluate our work. If he scolds me one more time for not “facing the products the right way” I’ll punch him. Or Carl – I think he always messes up my work. I’ve noticed him watching me at the register whenever I stock, and when I go in the back to put the boxes away I’m certain I hear him moving around. When I come back in he’s never by the register. What a fucker. If he wants a game I’ll play it.
Carl always pretends he doesn’t understand English when an annoying customer comes in. He starts sputtering gibberish in Spanish and the customer looks at me with even more annoyance. Carl doesn’t even speak Spanish; he just spouts random words he remembers from his high school class. One time he got caught, which I did find hilarious. Some cat lady was arguing with him on the price of canned tuna, so Carl goes “lo siento besarme,” to which a man I was getting cigarettes for muttered “What did you say pervert?” Our manager actually got to do something that day and scolded Carl for harassing customers. I couldn’t stop cackling when Carl had to mop the store after his shift for punishment.
I do get why Carl messes with the customers the way he does though. We get some pretty dumb people, fifteen year olds trying to buy alcohol and getting mad when I ask for an ID. Yelling at me that it’s an invasión of their privacy for me to ask that. If they have the money they should be allowed whatever they want. I have to remind them it’s the law and I could call the cops on them. That shuts them up, but they normally knock over some food to piss me off. Oh, do I wish I could smack some of these children. They’re the definition of a dumb shit. And don’t even get me started on the people who bring in coupons from other stores and try to tell me they’re valid here. They’re not valid, we don’t even sell that brand, just pay the three dollars. I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I work here any longer.
I knew working here was going to be rough, but damn I should have made better plans. There’s nothing much better in this stupid town with out a college degree. Fuck, if I could even make it through an online course. Whatever. If I can make it through one more day with Carl, then I can make my way out of this hell hole.