The Day an Idiot Robbed Wal-Mart

-Chapter 3-

Chapter 3

"So many times...it happens too fast...you trade your passion for glory..."

We were the first people back to the dressing rooms, so Cat Boy set up a stereo and was playing Eye of the Tiger over and over again.

"Why are we listening to this again? When we're about to be robbed?" I asked, tired of hearing the same chorus over and over. Cat Boy had it set on repeat, so that none of the other songs would play. I must admit, it was a pretty great song, but it can get old.

Cat Boy looked at me like I had just offended his honor, and he scoffed. "We need to get pumped up if we're going to make this work." As if thinking he had to prove his point to me, he beat his fists in the air, trying to imitate Rocky.

"You look like a retarded monkey..." I growled under my breath.

Which, of course, he heard. I swear that Cat Boy had super-hearing.

"Why must we resort to calling each other animals?" he asked, a perfectly valid question. But he apparently felt no shame in it, because he then followed with, "So Llama, I don't know you at all. Tell me about yourself."

How is it that when people want to know about me, I suddenly forget who I am? Ugh. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know...your age?"

I glared at him, then searched for a granola bar in the overstuffed basket. "Isn't that a little creepy?" I asked, part of me not wanting to tell him my age. I mean, what if he was a lot older, and he would think of me as a stupid teenager who argues with her elders?

"Nope," he said, shaking his head and popping the 'p' to make it more convincing. "So how old are you?"

Sighing, I answered, "Eighteen."

At least he didn't freak out, or make a disgusted face. "Aren't you going to ask me how old I am?"

"Well, you're acting like a five year old, so I just assumed..." I came back with the best I had, which, honestly, wasn't very good. It was getting late, and I was tired and hungry.

He faked a laugh, then sat down beside me as I ate my granola bar. "I'm actually four times that."

Four times five? That made him twenty. Just out of the teen years. I was probably right, I bet he did think of me as some young, stupid teenager.

To get off the subject, I eyed the granola bar I was chewing on. "So, am I technically stealing this?"

Cat Boy seemed to think about that for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I don't think so, not when we're trapped in here. I mean, we have to eat, don't we? Besides, if it comes down to it, we could just pay for it."

His logic made sense.

Just then, the cashiers, Louis and Beth, arrived, carrying water bottles and sleeping bags. Sleeping bags? Were these people planning on sleeping while there was serious threat outside?

Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was getting late. Teasing Cat Boy made the time go by quicker. It was already almost midnight

Lamar and Joseph both arrived at that time, with nothing in their arms. I was hoping to see some guns or some way to defend ourselves, but I had forgotten that this Wal-Mart didn't sell anything dangerous. At all. We lived in a community of mostly elderly people, and one year they went on a protest against the sell of knives and guns, and since we're such a small town and don't buy from that department anyway, Wal-Mart decided they would save money if they just stopped selling them at this location.