Smile

Noisy

This place is too noisy. It's the noise that gets to me most. That and the constant interruptions. I feel like I'm constantly being observed. No, it's not just that I feel that way; it is that way. Like right now, there's an old man glaring at me from the end of aisle thirteen. Why is he glaring? Could he not just walk over and ask for whatever it is he wants.

I pull a smile on. I'm so tired of smiling. I wave. "Hi, can I help you?"

He's yelling right away. "Can't anybody in this place do their damn job?"

I drop my smile. I keep my voice even. "What do you need help with?"

He shakes his head. "I need you to do your damn job!"

For fucks sake, this already? It's six-fifteen in the morning. And already it is so fucking loud. There's the beeping from a forklift a few aisles over and the self-checkout machines dinging and now the alarm down at the pro exit is going off. I can't take it. I can't take how damn loud it is. It's not like it hurts my ears. It just...bothers me. It rattles me in a way I can't explain. It didn't always rattle me. It makes my chest feel heavy now. It makes me feel like I need to...I don't know. I'm stuck here some days from open to close and the noise makes me want to get out. More than the awful customers. All this noise makes me...I don't know. I don't like it. I wish it would stop.

I wish everything would stop. I wish I could stop smiling.

"I'm trying to help," I tell him. I take a few steps towards him, moving away from the self-checkout terminal.

"You're not trying!" he shouts. "I've been here twenty minutes!"

He hasn't been here twenty minutes. I opened the doors myself ten minutes ago. Internally I wrestle with whether or not to tell him this. He's already at a level ten upset. Why not needle him a little?

"The store wasn't open twenty minutes ago," I tell him.

He gapes at me. He stomps over. He's bigger than me and my heart speeds up, but I don't back away. My head swims. It's so noisy in here. That forklift is still going. Beep beep beep motherfucker SHUT UP.

"Are you calling me a liar?!" He's shouting and his horrid ugly little wrinkled face is all twisted up. He's missing three teeth.

I don't plan to say it. But I do.

"Yes."

Our eyes are locked. What will he do now? What will I do now?

He snorts and shakes his head. "You need to grow the hell up!"

And he's off. He actually leaves. Walks all the way over to the door and then out, fuming the whole way.

I go back to the self-checkout terminal and try to calm down. Being nice doesn't work. Being assertive doesn't work. There's no way to keep them happy. My heart is still pounding when someone taps my shoulder.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

I put on another smile. I hate hate hate the way it feels.