I’m stuck in this worthless sweatshop when I’d rather be home with my feet on my coffee table and watching my soaps. I’m not a chick flick girl. I just like what I like. I like fast cars and dangerous things. I like sky jumping and race car driving. And I like Justin.
He’s a good friend.
He’s been there for me when my mom split with my dad when I was twelve. He was there for me when Greg Deters dumped me and called me a whore when I was sixteen. He was there for me even when he was clear across the freaking ocean in Europe or Germany or whatever. He called every night, not caring what time it was.
And looking back now I grill myself at how I treated him for many years before we became friends. We’re different, Justin and I. We’re two complete opposites who have, over the years, found a few things in common (thank god).
He’s great, and I wish I could be there in his house with him now instead of at this stupid Wal-Mart. The lady I’m checking out hasn’t stopped talking since I said hello. It’s purely a policy to at least be nice to the customers. As my boss says ‘the customer is always right’
She’s talking about her five cats and how the pee all over the place. Like this one time when she was eating soup and her black cat came up when she wasn’t watching and peed in her soup.
She knew there was a funny taste to it.
I smile as she grabs her bags and leaves. Pulling back my sleeve I look at my watch and grin. Ten more minutes and I can leave. Closing my register and locking it up I walk to the door and talk to Hank, the old man who gives out buggies and checks receipts. He ‘s talking about the rain and how we’re expected to get a severe thunderstorm.
And my heart speeds and I say a quick goodbye and walk to the bathroom and shut the door stall behind me.
I forgot. How could I forget this day?
I’m panicking as I open the door and walk to the sink and look at myself in the mirror. I can imagine what he’s thinking and saying about me now.
The one time he truly needs me and I’m not there.
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