It's More Of A Boy Meets Boy Kind Of Thing... But More Badass.

It's More Of A Boy Meets Boy Kind Of Thing... But More Badass. ch. 2

After I pulled myself out of bed at 1:30 in the afternoon I quickly, quick for that time of the morning, made it and shuffled into the kitchen. I splashed water into my face from the freezing kitchen sink and ate a carrot stick. I checked the fridge for anything else. Ketchup... A potato... Oh! A celery stick!

At least I ate healthy. If at all.

I started my morning ritual by finishing my celery stick and pressing the button on my answering machine, always getting at least a couple from Mags. This morning I got only one- luckily. I wasn't in the mood to listen to twenty minutes of a desperate old Mags trying to get me to finally realize I was the only one for her, and she was the only one for me, and that she was the perfect person for me, that only I could ... blah blah blah... I usually toned it out after that. I really did feel bad for her. She just wasn't... wasn't for me. There was something about her that just turned me away. Sharply. But if there was any way for me to find someone for her and for her to suddenly see that it just wouldn't work that way, well.... I would trade my last carrot stick.

At 2:10 I left the house, cleaned and dressed in my uniform for work. I arrived at 2:30 sharp because that was the only thing I had as a constant in my life. Well, that wasn't true. there were a lot of constants, like being able to get smashed at Dark Maul and most likely get fucked out of my mind-- only if you find the right person. But instead of making that my living and decreasing my life by probably four to ten years, I did this. Oh, joy...

My dark blue uniform at least wasn't the worst that I could being wearing, I mean it went alright with my hair. Still. Grr.

"Sage! Where are you?!" My boss called angrily, even though I was just taking shit from him a second ago. For basically no reason. It was something stupid like, 'Cut your damn hair! We don't want people to discontinue being our customers because of your appearence! And anyway, who even likes black hair?!'

"Here, sir!" I said through gritted teeth, trying not to put any agrivated emphazis on Sir. Mr. Numbnuts-McDoucheburg came around the corner with a clipboard in his fat hand. Must be kinda rich with that name, but not that well off if he was a manager at this dump. (A/N. This is sarcasm, I'm not seriously naming him that. -.- I've seen it done like that-- not my kind of story. Bleck. -.-) It would look like a total dump if I didn't clean it, then restock it, then work at the cash register, then go make food, all while putting up with asswipes like him.

"Mr. Sallow, would you like to explain why you aren't doing something right now?" I flinched when he used my last name. I hated him. Soooo bad.

"No sir, I was just stacking these." I held up a box of something I hadn't been paying attention to. I waved to the great pile of them neatly ordered on a shelf. He sneered at the display, me, and back.

"Get to the registers, now!" He stormed away. I looked after him reproachfully before finally deciding that I needed money more than I needed a broken fist and charges prssed against me. The full repurcussions of my grand celerey and carrot stick breakfast was already taking its toll on me. My stomach growled the whole way around the aisles and past the counter.

Where I worked was like a cross between a grocery store and McDonalds. A fucked up combination, I know, but they pay me. Not well, but I do survive. I haven't had to do anything extreme- as of yet. And I didn't plan on it. That wasn't how i rolled.

I dropped the fries into the fryer and walked over to the registers. I stood there, trying to get away from my surroundings, but I found it nearly impossible. For a few reasons- one: My jerk boss made me take out my snake bites, even though it wasn't technically against the rules, so I found myself pushing my lip out with an uncomfortable feeling. Two: I could smell the food behind me, the grease and fat I so desparetly needed. Every man needs a good burger every once in a while. Today was that day for me. Every other day I was hungry, but not this hungry. I was running low on cash and I could never afford anything from here on a better day. I finally shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, clutching at my stomach to stop the loud noise. Disturbing the non-existant customers, my boss would say, and then write me up. I couldn't get written up much more or I would lose my job- not what I needed right now.