Broke-Ish [Completed]

Chapter 8

On the weekends entire families enter the store on rotation from store open until store close. The mom, the dad, the sister, the brother, the nan, great aunty Beth, uncle Jeremiah, the brothers girlfriend, the small children, the small children's friends. They enter the store like herds all grouped together with no real direction, their only intention is to graze. They pick up tins of tuna in brine then dump them in the bakery aisle when they realise it should have been tuna in sunflower oil. They take frozen pizzas out of the freezer, leaving them to defrost in their trolley before dumping them by the bleach and antibacterial sprays, deciding they'd much prefer a take-away instead. They NEVER check and switch the eggs before reaching the till leaving a surplus of egg cartons at the till area that nobody has any time or desire to put back. The kids always and I mean always need the toilet, I don't know why they don't just leave them at home and the petty thieves hit the weekend jackpot being as the security guard is too old and too out of shape to stop them from taking what the hell they want, it's carnage.

Overtime is always available on a weekends and most of it is spent removing lemons from the ice cream freezer and taking apple juice from off the deli counter. Monday is a little better but not much. On Mondays we get the people who like to avoid the weekend crowd, I like to think of them as the smart ones, the little hermits. They are small in number but there's enough of them to cause me to have to take a late break most Mondays but I'm glad to say that today is Tuesday. Most folks are pretty much stocked up for the week. We get a lot of single people coming in buying things like cous cous, quinoa and kale for meal prep or whatever. I'm 99% sure all good intentions go out of the window and they grab a burger most days. What the hell is quinoa anyway?

PROSECCO PEASANTS

Yaz, Jasmine, Kara, Liv

Liv: Tonight's the night

Yaz: Yes gurl! What you wearing

Liv: I dunno yet

Yaz: What d'ya mean you don't know my girl....uno you've gotta dress to impress right?

Liv: Obv! Just haven't had chance yet- had that dinner with my dad and his new girlfriend yesterday

Jasmine: Oh yeah Sharon is it? What's she like

Liv: She reminds me of Stella from Eastenders in every possible way

Yaz: LOL

Jasmine: LMAO!!

Where are you going?

Liv: Same place as last time, gonna order off the A La Carte menu

Jasmine: Ooo sounds fancy

Kara: A La Carte just means you can order items individually

Yaz: As opposed to?

Kara: As opposed to a set meal

Liv: What? I thought it was French!

Kara: It is!!!

Yaz: So you're having frogs legs and snails?

Jasmine: I'm lost

You can't go wrong with an LBD, apparently. I personally find them a little bland but I am going to go with what's been proven to work and gifted to me from Kara's wardrobe, being as my own wardrobe was less than fruitful. I change my shocking red lipstick just before the taxi arrives for a darker, deeper, more comfortable red, have a spritz of my surprisingly good £5 Avon perfume then head out the door. There's an odd smell outside of my house that has been lingering for a good few days now. It's a nauseating, sticky, metallic scent that's almost as bad as the smell in the break room at work and dependent on how the wind blows, sometimes it's worse. At first I thought it was the drains but having lived in an area close to a sewage plant I am all too familiar with that smell, this one is different. It gets stronger as I walk past my neighbours and I peak over to see if maybe he's forgotten to empty his bins for the past few months. It disappears as I hobble further down the street to the taxi , yes its further down the street, they never park outside my actual home, that would be asking for too much. I sit on the rough leather seats and my scent induced nausea is replaced with a nervous nausea which isn't better, but it's not worse. What are we going to talk about? Is this dress too much? He hasn't asked for my bank details, should I offer them? What is A La carte? Why did Reena cut her hair? A thousand questions run riot in my head unable to find answers amongst the ridiculous assumptions I have gained from constant overthinking over the years.