"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩."
"𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗."
"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥."
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╰┈➤ IN WHICH, a troubled biker makes a pitstop for Monster Energy in an unfamiliar city and falls f...
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Sleeping was the best thing the world has to offer. It was a blessing how you could drop your consciousness off to Celestia and make the gods babysit your consciousness, or the way you could visit Dreamland without a worry.
Waking up was the worst thing the world has to offer. Especially so when you need to wake up for your night shift at a crappy convenience store.
The process of putting on your crappy uniform and hauling your ass to work at 11:30pm was— indubitably— grueling.
Tonight was odious. The uniform felt more suffocating than usual; customers kept bitching; your right AirPod died..
Obviously, today wasn't the day.
So there you stand, a crystalfly's flap away from losing your sanity, without a particular reason.
Maybe the vampiric sleep schedule catching up to you. You could feel a growing headache and oh my Archons you just wanted to hole yourself in your room and sleep.
A little bubble of anger etched deep in your chest has been growing and building up, bit-by-bit, inconveniencing you.
Hopefully it doesn't pop. You don't want to blow up on an undeserving customer.
———
A myopic, stuck-up brunette was currently trying to convince you to charge her less for the crap load of things she wanted to buy.
The alcohol and chips and candy atop the counter made it obvious she was a college student nearby, sent out to buy things for some dumb frat party.
It was obvious why she was the one who was sent to acquire the food. She was such an utter prick, you were beginning to feel stabs in your patience. It was no wonder she wasn't wanted at the function!
She leans over the counter, hands inbetween the two chip bags. You question why she decided to come here instead of an actual store.
"There's no way this is $40! Just take the $30, will you? It's literally only ten dollars off." The girl huffed. She urges a few bucks to your face.
Your eye twitched. To be completely transparent, you weren't sure how you managed to keep your cool.
I mean— this girl who reeked of perfume (which may smell good, but was overpowering to the point of smelling like a Bath & Body Works store) was all up in your face, complaining about the price of three bottles and two party-sized chip bags.
Despite the bubble of annoyance rapidly growing, you responded rather professionally. (Hooray for [name]!)
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but all your items come to $40. I promise it isn't an error, we've already double checked." You retorted.
