I'm not sure what it is about me or my position, but I get an awful lot of life stories. I have a feeling I would get even more if I was a bartender. Anyway, this woman asked me how far along I am, so I told her five. She said she is four. And she has an eight-month old at home. I said,
"Wow, that's intense."
And she said,
"No, it's awful. And now I'm four months along again. Well, good luck!"
Sweet baby Jesus.
After I punch out I head into the office to request some days off. And my store manager is talking on the phone, to his wife.
"No, I'm sure that wasn't a rat....Because! When in the hell are rats on roofs?! ... Well, they were probably eating or scaring the shit out of that black crow on the other side of the roof. ... You haven't seen the black crow? ... He is right up there with those black squirrels. ... Yes, the black squirrels! ... NO, I'm not making this up. ... I will be leaving in about twenty minutes, but only if you let me get off the phone."
He turns to me and asks if I've seen the black squirrels. Then he asks why the milk was scanned in with the cigarettes. Luckily I had already punched out and was under little obligation to answer and assist.
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