Poop

My drunken regular came in with his woman. He told me that there was a shooting a few blocks away. I told him my neighbor's house got robbed, and he asked if I was still living in a far-away suburb. I told him 'no', and said I was by the other store. He asked me again where I live and again I said 'by the other store.' By this point they were by my register and I said 'hi' to his lady. I was also trying to ring up a mentally disabled regular. The drunk kept asking where I lived, and waiting patiently, and his lady kept trying to get him to move along. I was trying to listen to the disabled guy as he told me his phone number. Finally the drunk and his lady left and the disabled guy asked what our conversation was about. I told him the drunk wanted to know where I lived.
"You don't have to tell anyone that."
"Yeah, I know."
"That's your personal business. He doesn't need to know where you live. You need your privacy."
"Yeah."
"You need your privacy."
"Thanks. Have a good day."

I rung up a woman who was purchasing a Lean Cuisine and a pack of air freshners. She asked me to open up the air freshners, which she said she needed because someone pooped in her car. And she tried to go to car wash but it was closed. I do not know if the pooper was a baby or an old person. Nor do I know if the poop ever touched the seats.

For most of my shift, my fetus was trying to claw his was trough my belly button. He was doing a lot of shifting. I feel gigantic. It is getting harder to pick things up off the floor.