"I'm almost never serious, and I'm always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I'm like a collection of paradoxes."
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Ice Queen.
Cold Hearted.
Emotionle...
Smashing my finger down repeitively on the screen of my phone, I sighed in content from the silence that my alarm was just consuming. It was one of those fucking days. One of those days that everything went absolultely side ways. I could just feel it.
Groaning, I rolled out of bed before doing my daily morning routine. This consisted of me quickly throwing my work clothes on, tying my hair in a messy ponytail, sighing at the face that stared back at me and wallowing in my own self pity for two minutes. Scrambling for my keys, I quickly put on my shoes and got into my car before driving off.
I worked in bait shop slash fuel station slash cafe which required me go get up at ridiculous hours of the morning for 5:00am starts. Today wasn't any different. As per usual, I walked in, only to be bombarded by my best friend - one of the only people I trust - Scarlett Johnson. Nevertheless, my day was instantly brightened
"Aye bitch," she exaggerated the word bitch.
"Aye buddy," and that was the start of our endless chatter. Which, in all honesty, made the day go faster.
I had the system at the bait shop all figured out. Every half and hour, onwards from 5:00am we would have a rush. I knew which customers came in when and what they wanted. Any newbies I would greet and get aquainted with. All in all, my job was easy, aside from the occasional dickhead.
However, as I knew from the moment I woke up, today was going to be a shitty today. In fact, it was probably one of my worst. I endured several sexual comments from customers, spilt three lots of milk everywhere, charged a customer the wrong fuel and to top it off, Aunt Flow decided to visit. But it wasn't til 9:00am, when the lunch rush consisting with a majority of tradesman came in to really ruin ny day.
To put it lightly, I'm an asshole. The customers know it, my coworkers know it and even my boss knows it. Some customers like my attitude and will often try and get a rise out of me (obviously just messing around) but there are a few that I absolutely can't stand. And, it looked like I was adding to the latter list.
It was like I felt him before he even stepped foot into the shop. So, when I turned and looked to see who it was, my breath hitched. He was beautiful.
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Scarlett often asked me about what attributes I would like to find in a suitable companion. And the man that stood before my eyes, was physically, my walking description. I almost pinched myself to see if I was dreaming - keyword: almost. Because, much to my advantage, I didn't wear my heart on my sleeve; my face, as usual, void of any emotions. No one would be able to tell my attraction towards him, nor would he.
As I analysed his behaviour from the counter, I took note to pay attention to his body language and the way he spoke. He had come in with someone else that I didn't even realise was with him, and unfortunately, that someone was on my, I would rather dry heave as I ate sardines off of Donald Trump's sweaty body than serve you list. So imagine my distaste when I realised I had to serve the little prick.
Mustering up the fakest smile I could, "How are you today?"
"Yeah darling, can I get the roast chicken and gravy roll," he replied with a smirk.
Not refraining from rolling eyes, my smile dropped before I uttered under my breath, "Don't call me darling." And he clearly heard, as he bellowed out a loud laugh before nudging Mr. Tall, Dark and Totally Fuckable next to him. Letting out a loud sigh, I then asked, "Anything else?"
"Yeah, your number," he said cockily and I quickly raised my eyes up to glare at him. Little fucks like him made me wish murder was legal.
"How about you go fuck yourself?" I rhetorically asked him, darkly.
"Aww, only if you join me. What about for my mate here? Make's $40.00 an hour, quite a catch."
Suddenly, smiling at him sarcastically, "Well, if you're so impressed with how much he earns, why don't you date him." Left with nothing else to say, he quickly exited, but not before informing his 'mate', whilst laughing, he'd wait for him in the car.
Turning to face the man that made my ovaries want to get jiggy with it, I realised that he was silently chucking to himself over my exchange.
"Nice friend, you sure know how to pick 'em," I mumbled sarcastically. He chuckled some more before passing me a few drinks and a sandwich.
"Well, that's no way to treat a customer." His eyes held amusement, mine held fury.
"Sorry, what the fuck do you want me to do about it, fucking start all over again?" A few customers looked at me shocked, some laughed and the man of my fantasies actually nodded.
"That would be nice, thanks." What the fuck? Is he serious right now? Fine.
"Welcome to Hell, if you head to the left you can go fuck yourself. If you head to the right, feel free to drown yourself in the bait buckets. Oh! And also, did you want chicken salt on that?" Smiling fakely until it hurt my face, I took the money I didn't realise he was holding until now and threw his change on the counter. But not once did he stop chuckling, which only led to my frustration increasing.
And I'd be lying if I said his next words didn't make my heart skip a beat, "I'll see you around, princess."
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Howdy Readers!
Hope you're all getting good vibes from this story. If there are any mistakes or you have any constructibe criticism, please don't hesitate to comment. But please, remember that there is a difference between contructive critisim and just being a plain fucking asshole. So do yourselves a favour and be a darl.
