"Thanks for shopping at Mart Mart. Have a nice day."
The customer Kenny had attended to grabbed her bags and left the store without a reply. He sighed and said to Cassie, the courtesy clerk he worked with, "I'm gonna take my break."
"Yeah, sure," Cassie replied absentmindedly as she picked at the polish on her nails.
Kenny closed off his lane and headed to the back of the store, trying his best to avoid any customers. Soon, Kenny reached a door which read "EMPLOYEES ONLY" and went through.
"Hey there."
"What're you doing here?"
Kenny's co-worker and best friend, Jillian, sat at the small table in the middle of the break room.
"Can't a guy take a break every now and again, Ken?"
"Not when he's supposed to be working." Kenny opened the fridge where the employees kept their lunches and grabbed his own. "I mean, are you trying to get fired or something?"
Jillian leaned back on the back legs of the chair. "Maybe I am. I'm tired of all this heavy lifting work. It's too much of a strain on my poor back," he whinned.
While Kenny worked as a cashier, Jillian carried boxes, stocked shelves, and such. Jillian never failed to complain about it, despite having applied for the job.
"Sucks to be you." Kenny put the plastic container which held his lunch in the microwave. He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed as he waited for the food to warm up.
"Didn't you already take your lunch break?"
"Mmm, maybe," Jillian replied.
The microwave beeped three times, signaling that the food was ready. Kenny took it and sat across from his friend.
"If Diane finds you back here she's gonna be pissed."
"Diane can kiss my ass," Jillian replied as Kenny took the lid off the container and began eating.
"Ugh, rice again, Ken? Seriously? That can't be okay."
"Rice is great," he said around a mouthful.
Jillian rolled his eyes. "Anyway, why'd you wanna be a cashier? Stocking shelves would be perfect for you. You're a lot stronger than me and definitely not a people person."
Kenny shrugged. "No way. That job's way too dangerous. I could get hurt."
"What're you talking about, man? The most hurt you could get is a paper cut."
Jillian sat back in his seat. "Oh, I know what this is about." He smirked.
"You do?"
"Yeah. It's your crazy overprotective mom, isn't it? She doesn't want you getting hurt."
"Alright, fine. You got me," Kenny sighed.
"Dude," Jillian suddenly leaned forward, "you gotta live a little. What normal person has never seen a drop of their own blood? I'm telling you, take some risks in your life. Forget about your mom."
"I can't help it. I've lived my whole life in a . . . protective bubble. It's just a habit now. Besides, what's wrong with staying safe? So what if I avoid doing things that can get me hurt?"
"Ken, I love you, bro, but you're such a sourpuss. We can barely do anything fun together because of your stupid subconscious desire to never get hurt. I'm telling you, your mom's ruined your life."
Kenny had had it. He dropped his spoon and banged a fist against the table, shouting, "Jillian, could you just drop it? Just shut up and quit talking about my mom!"
