FortySixtyFour
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RE: Trailer Trash 55 pt 4
🕑 Added 2023-12-09 10:04:05 +0000 UTC“Hey, how you holdin’ up so far?” Cindy asked, opening up a blue cooler bag in her lap to reveal a sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap and a baggie of baby carrots. “Thinkin’ you’ll stick around?”
Returning to the back break room to punch out for her mandatory break was strange and surreal—only a scant few hours had passed, but the time spent on register for her shift felt like literal days had elapsed. Her feet ached until they were throbbing because she was so unused to standing, and Mrs. Moore felt physically, emotionally, and mentally spent beyond her capacity. Her first day as a Food Lion had carried her the whole way across the breadth of the entire human experience, from the unexpected joy of discovery, realizing she’d figured something out on her own… to the raw horror of a customer snapping at her with—“Uhh—hey, you never gave me my change?”
“Yeah, um,” Shannon fidgeted with her hands upon her knees. “I think so? I’m—I’m just so nervous.”
She was understating her anxiety—her first day on register was so nerve-racking that she’d been moments away from tears for the past three hours. The front end of the Food Lion was so bright and open she felt constantly exposed, and customers were all coming and going so fast that it was overwhelming. Whenever someone was checking out in her aisle, tension bordering on panic rose up just beneath her skin, even though for the most part the average transaction was extraordinarily simple and straightforward.
Scan the items, put them in the bag, tell them the number. Take the money, punch it in and put it in the drawer. The computer tells me what change to give them back, always give them the largest coins I can. Remember the receipt. Give customers the bag.
Just when the tedium and monotony of that began to calm her down, something would inevitably go wrong—the digital display would error code 11, whatever that meant, or have bagged fruit that needed to be weighed and input into the computer some way she was doing wrong, or sometimes the drawer simply wouldn’t spring open when she expected it to, jumbling up her terrified mind into a scramble to figure out what she was doing wrong.
“Looked to me like you were doin’ just fine,” Cindy remarked, peeling bag the wrap on her sandwich. “I was a mess, my first day. But you, you did great!”
Cindy’s sandwich looked to be a peanut butter and jelly one, and the sight of it made Mrs. Moore’s stomach twist into knots. She hadn’t been able to force down breakfast, and now hunger pains and nausea were combating one another, because spending all morning on edge had her sure she would throw up. The idea of getting home to where she was safe and free from the stress and obligation of all of this had her entire body longing to simply not be here in the store anymore.
Today was even a slow day, or so she was told—manager John had remarked that she was lucky they had enough slack to let her take her fifteen along with Cindy. Mrs. Moore was realizing that Cindy was basically her minder today, and the chipper girl had walked her through the basics of clocking out for break on the computer with a patience that Mrs. Moore found embarrassing. After all, Cindy was young, just a twenty-something that looked like she should be some fresh face in college.
“N-no, no, I messed up so many times,” Shannon’s face tightened into a wince when she attempted to smile. “That time, um, when that old lady wanted to pay with a check, and I, I just had no idea what on earth to do…”
“Ah, yeah, you’ll get that,” Cindy nodded in agreement around a mouthful of her sandwich. “Checks’re a pain! Hey… were you rememberin’ to ask for their Food Lion MVP card?”
“I—” Mrs. Moore froze up in horror. “I haven’t—oh my God, I haven’t asked anyone even once, all day long—!”
“Hey! Don’t sweat it,” Cindy smiled and shrugged. “It’s just… yeah, one of the times I was glancin’ over your way, I saw this lady was holdin’ out her reward card for you to scan it for her, and you didn’t seem like you were noticin’?”
“Oh my God—!” Shannon’s face fell as her vision filled with tears.
“Hey! Hey, no big deal, seriously—no big deal,” Cindy hurried to comfort her. “Like, it probably woulda only saved her seventy cents or somethin’. I just wanted to let you know, ‘cause that’s one of those things the floor managers’ll get up your butt about if they see it.”
“I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—!” Shannon sobbed, hunching over in her seat and covering her face with her hands.
“Hey, no no no—you’re fine, it’s fine!” Cindy rushed in to take her shoulder. “No big deal! The lady didn’t even speak up about it or anything, she didn’t care that much. It was no big deal, okay? Okay, hon?”
* * *
“Tabs—awesome,” Alicia wore a huge grin as she waggled the pair of anime VHS tapes that had been her Christmas present—Trigun episodes, and Fire Emblem. “Watchin’ these like, the second I get home.”
“Japanimation?” Bobby remarked, slipping into the table’s bench seat beside them uninvited. “Nice.”
“Are you into anime?” Tabitha asked, giving him a quizzical smile that seemed to stun him.
“Uhhh—I guess so?” Bobby laughed.
“Pokemon?” Alicia pressed.
“Ehh,” Bobby hedged. “I’m more into Dragonball Z?”
“Dragon Ball Z. Do you know Dragon Ball Z?” Alicia checked its future relevance with Tabitha.
“Oh yeah, it’s real big,” Tabitha chuckled. “Well, I’ve never watched it, but it’s always had lots of memes?”
“Memes?” Bobby looked perplexed.
“Yeah, like—Vegeta,” Tabitha said. “He’s the one with the crazy hair, right?”
“Well uhh—they all kinda have crazy hair, but Vegeta’s definitely—”
“Vegeta?” Alicia asked, giving them an incredulous look at the absurd name. “Seriously? Is this like a Veggie Tales thing?”
“Hey, watch it—I love Veggie Tales,” Bobby shot back with a huge grin. “Ohhh wheeere—is my hairbrush? Ohh wheeere—is my hairbrush?!”
“Stop! Stop. No,” Alicia pointed a finger at him. “We are not singing Veggie Tales here. This is the cool kids table.”
“And yet, here you all are, watching Japanime. Interesting,” Bobby put on a faux-judgemental tone as he examined one of the VHS tapes. “Yes, hmm. Very interesting.”
“Hey! Yoink,” Alicia grabbed Trigun back from him in a huff. “This was a Christmas present from Tabitha. And besides, just look at it—dude looks totally rad. S’like uhhh, like if Michael Jackson and the blond Russian guy from Rocky had a baby, and then gave the baby a big Clint Eastwood handgun. It’s gonna be awesome!”
“How ‘bout instead of watchin’ all that Japanimated nonsense, you guys check out Willow?” Bobby suggested. “Tabitha—did you watch it yet?”
“I… have not!” Tabitha admitted with a sheepish look. “It looked too, um, too scary to sit down and watch with Hannah.”
“Well—what are you doing after school?” Bobby grinned.
“Spending time with Hannah,” Tabitha retorted with a sly smile. “Of course.”
“Hey guys,” Elena approached them with a small wave, dropping her bag on the table. “Alicia. Tabitha. Bobby.”
“Hey!”
“Yo.”
“‘Sup.”
“So, hey,” Elena fished the pocket notebook out of the breast pocket of her army jacket and gestured it towards Tabitha. “Are all of these…?”
“Yes! All of the Evanescence lyrics I could remember,” Tabitha sat up straight. “Definitely all of their hit songs. There were a few others I could only remember some of the lines for. So, you having that—that’ll be proof.”
“They’re neat,” Elena gave her a respectful nod. “But… I might have to have you sing them out a little, so that I can kinda get the full idea of how they sound.”
“Oh, sure,” Tabitha eagerly agreed. “Yeah. Definitely!”
“Guys—” Alicia interrupted, slapping her sketchpad on the tabletop. “Art club. You’re all joining, right? Bobby, art club? Tabitha? C’mon.”
“I’ll go,” Tabitha said. “Do I need a shirt?”
“What day are the meetings?” Bobby asked. “I can draw. I’m probably the best draw-er I know.”
“You can draw?” Alicia arched an eyebrow at him. “Alright then, show me.”
With a flourish, she turned her artbook to a blank page and then slid it across the table towards him in challenge, dropping a mechanical pencil atop it. Bobby shifted forward in his seat, laced his fingers together and then stretched them out as if he was a piano maestro preparing for a lengthy concert, and even picked up the pencil daintily between his thumb and forefinger and gave it experimental taps on the edge of the table as if he was a conductor preparing to launch a symphony.
“Ahem, ahem ahem ahem,” Bobby cleared his throat with theatrics. “So, this is gonna be Larry from Veggie Tales, and—”
“Wait, no, no,” Tabitha perked up. “Draw… the Mandalorian.”
“The Mandalorian?” Bobby looked at her in surprise. “You mean Boba Fett?”
Boba Fett… wasn’t that Mando’s creepy bald uncle? Tabitha tried to sort out her tangled recollection of Star Wars lore. It might have been. But, Mando and Grogu were for sure NEW characters made up after Disney bought out Star Wars, so…
“Yeah, sure,” Tabitha nodded, sharing a small smirk with Alicia. “But… I want you to draw him with a baby Yoda.”
“A baby Yoda?” Bobby paused, already partway through drawing a T-visor shape. “Hah, why a baby one?”
“For… no particular reason at all,” Tabitha giggled. “I want you to draw the Mandalorian, and then a baby Yoda with him—and then I want you to sign and date the drawing.”
“Okay? Sure,” Bobby chuckled, creating the outline of a helmet with a swoop of the pencil. “Hey—for you, Tabitha, anything you want. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Boba Fett and a baby Yoda?” Alicia gave her a peculiar searching look.
“The Mandalorian and a baby Yoda, yes,” Tabitha fought to keep a smug look off of her face. “Then, we’re gonna sign and date that January 1999, and put it in a picture frame. For posterity.”
“Yeah, cause I’m that good,” Bobby chortled to himself in a self-satisfied way as he drew out an ‘artful’ rendition of Boba Fett with all of the apparent skill of a second-grader. “Hell yeah.”
“Draw baby Yoda in a um, a floating egg, please,” Tabitha advised him. “It’s like a floating egg?”
“You got it,” Bobby agreed with gusto, scribbling in more lines. “Baby Yoda; over-easy.”
“Yoda’s the frog guy, right?” Elena asked. “The one that talks backwards?”
“Talk backwards, I do—hm hn hmm hnn hmmm!” Bobby imitated Yoda’s laughter with surprising accuracy.
“‘Lena—he’s not a frog!” Alicia chastised her friend. “C’mon Tabs, tell her.”
“Then, what is he?” Elena shrugged. “He’s like a puppet, right? Or, a muppet?”
“He’s a Jedi Master,” Bobby said in a grave tone. “A great warrior.”
“Ah—but, wars not make one great!” Alicia lit up with excitement, offering up her fist for a fist bump.
“Please tell me you’re not all gonna start talking like that,” Elena made a face at seeing the pair bump fists. “Just—no. Don’t even start. Tabitha, no. No. I recognize that look, you’re trying to think up some backwards muppet-talk line right now, well, just—don’t.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” Tabitha burst into laughter. “I, I was still thinking!”
( Previous, 55 pt 3 | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, 55 pt 5 )
/// Woke up at 1 AM with the urge to write this; here it is. Going back to sleep now.
Comments
Jeanie6754
Great job boss
jackalsclaw
There is an old joke that Yoda is so old because he is a child of Kermit and Ms Piggy
