Cars and Calories

I

Working the night shift at 7/11 isn't the most fun thing you could be doing on a scorching hot summer evening, especially when it's a Friday night. But begrudgingly, that's what Frank was spending his night doing. His place as a store manager wasn't gotten by spending the fun nights partying. Nonetheless, even if it meant he was cooped up in a shitty convenience store, at least his bills were payed and his stomach was somewhat full, and Frank would forever be grateful for that.

Frank sat on a stool behind the counter, leaned back a little with his foot resting on an empty plastic barrel who's intended use was to hold clean washcloths. He was on his shift alone, it's not like anyone could tell him to move his feet. A small rotating fan sat to his left, and every time it would make it's turns the magazines Frank would occasionally browse through fluttered. The wind from wasn't enough to keep him cool, but it was better than nothing. Shitty convenience stores don't get air conditioning. The cashiers eyes looked over to the digital clock he kept beside all his belongings. "Only 12:43.." He grumbled before uncrossing his arms to fan himself with one of his magazines. "It's way too slow for a Friday night." Frank sighed and went back to eyeing the glass door, watching to see if any stray customers would come relieve him of his boredom. His thoughts were soon answered when the bell above the door rang, snapping him out of his boredom induced haze. Frank hurried to stand on both feet, greeting his customer with a smile and a "How can I help?"

Looking back at Frank was man who you could stereotype as a guy who regularly comes into convenience stores for booze and a pack or two of cigarettes, but way more pretty than the average bum. He stood about 5'9, a bit on the pale side with some of the darkest circles under his eyes that Frank has ever seen. Jaw length black hair that looked unkempt but in an punk way. Overall, he was just Frank's type. Pretty boys with some kind of edge to them. Franks customer gave him an awkward smile back before he made his way to the back of the store where they kept the alcohol. Frank watched him as he studied the booze in front of him, picking up a few bottles before putting them back with a clink here or there. He finally picked a cheap bottle of beer before shuffling back to the front of the humid 7/11, setting the cold bottle of beer down on the counter.

Frank picked it up the bottle, already dripping with condensation while scanning it. "Anything else?" He questioned while he pulled a white plastic bag reading "THANK YOU" from under the counter. "Can I get a pack of Marlboro Reds.... the light ones." the man requested. "Sure, no problem." Frank replied, turning around to the wall of cigarettes to find a pack. "Uhmm.... here we go." he said while reaching out to pluck the requested pack from it's place. Frank then returned to his spot in front of the register, ringing up the pack and tossing it in the bag. "Your total is gonna be $10.24." His customer then reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a crumpled twenty dollar bill before handing it to the cashier. Tapping the cash out option, Frank swiftly put it in it's section of his drawer and began counting out the change. Pushing the cash registers drawer closed with his hip, Frank ripped the receipt and handed the mans money back with his bag. "Have a nice night." he sang with yet another smile. "Thanks a bunch, you too." the man before him muttered as he hastily shoved the change back into his pocket while walking to the exit, the doorbell ringing as he left.

Frank let out a heavy sigh and plopped back down into his stool, feet immediately being put back into their resting position atop the empty bucket. "Back to staring at the clock 'till 5 A.M." he grumbled before fanning himself again. His mind couldn't help but find it's way back to the guy he just helped on counter though. A smirk spread across his face when the man realized he just caught feelings for a guy he met once who looked like he smoked a pack a day. But what can he say, edgy guys are his type. Frank crossed his arms back across his chest as the fan rotated and blew semi-hot air onto his face. "Maybe I'll see him again..." He said to himself before mentally making a promise to himself that if he crossed paths with him again, that he would at least say something worth remembering.

(also i don't know why it says draft please help me...)