The Purple Bandit

Framed!

I work as a cashier in Bath & Body Works, trying to ring up grown women and annoying teenage girls, sometimes men, with their products that smell horrible.

Really, I hated this job. But it pays good money. Yet, they won't hook me up with some free candles.

Sure, some of the scents were rather delightful, other smelled like either soap or some bizzare stench that would make a grown man cry. What were the creators even thinking about when they combined formulas?

It was my break time, so I went into the back room and put in my ear buds. The back room was the best part of this job, even though it smelled like lavender.

I was listening to some Ludacris when my time was over. I went back into the store and saw the worst customer eva.

She was a fifteen year old girl who would always ombre her hair these strange colors. Like brown with blue, red with green, and so on. Terrible taste in color, if you ask me.

She came here almost every day. Her rich father always lends her some money, and by some I meant alot. Her dad owned a five star company that manufactures appliances. Her name is Missy Flint. Literally the most arrogant, naughty, rude girl you will ever meet. She sometimes complains to me how the candles she buys are more expensive than when a man does, saying that women have to pay more.

The reason that she has to pay more is because I charge her extra due to her being rude, not because she's female.

Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, and was light blonde with a hot pink ombre. Personally, I think she should have just dyed all her hair hot pink if she wanted an unnatural color.

"Hey, Joshie," she greeted me in an annoying tone of voice.

"Welcome, Missy. How may I help you?" I asked with a fake smile. I absolutely hated it when she called me Joshie. My name is Josh. How hard is it for her to understand?

"Oh, just looking around," Missy answered.

By "looking around" she means that she's going to buy everything.

I ringed up some people when I happened to see her whispering to a girl that I've never seen before. Maybe she knew the girl well, because after having a short conversation, Missy quickly, and hesitantly put a bottle of shampoo in her purse.

Now, listen, I have heard that keeping a purse can be very handy. In restaurants, you can place food in them and save it for later. That's why I keep a satchel, and it is really helpful for other important things. But Missy wasn't saving that shampoo for later, she was stealing it.

I couldn't let her get away with it. To save her from more trouble, I could just walk up to her and demand the shampoo bottle back. Because if she leaves with it in her purse, the alarm will go off.

I walked up to her and looked at her in the eyes.

"Put the shampoo back," I demanded.

"What shampoo? Why would I steal shampoo?" Missy played innocent.

"Girl, the shampoo is sticking out of your purse," I pointed out.

"That was already there," Missy added.

"I just saw you put it in your purse," I argue. "Put. It. Back."

Missy narrowed her eyes. I grabbed the bottle out of her purse and placed it on the shelf.

"You did not just-"

"I just did. I don't have time for shoplifters, now get out you arrogant girl," I scold.

Missy gasped in anger. She slapped me, and backed into a shelf of candles - hard. The candles in their glass cases fell onto the hardwood floor and shattered into millions of pieces.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked furiously. She was causing a scene.

"He pushed me into the shelf, and all I was doing was defending myself!" Missy lied.

"I did no such thing!" I defend myself.

Security men walked over to the scene.

"What's the problem?" they asked.

"He assaulted me! And I'll have you know that my daddy is CEO of a mega company and he can sue this whole mall and you two!" Missy yelled.

That scared the security guards, and they began to drag me away.

"Wait! She is lying!" I yell.

She waved evily, and continued shopping.

Is it just me, or did I just get into a cat fight?

Whatever. I can just defend my case at court, then I will be proven not guilty.

I kept a straight face as the defendant, and Missy looked like she was about to break down.

"Mr. Ackerman," the judge said to me, "are you sure that your story is true?"

"Yes, I'm positive!" I said.

I didn't have a witness, but Missy did. Apparently, it was the girl she was whispering to. Her named was Lilac. She lied as well.

"Okay, Josh Ackerman is guilty!" the judge said, and slammed his gavel.

"What?!" I exclaimed.