The Stock Clerk

The Stock Clerk.

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The Stock Clerk

It was one of those days. I had decided to wash some clothes, but it took an hour to chase them all down and to locate their hiding places. Then I found that I was out of laundry detergent. I remembered having used the last to brush both my and the dogs teeth..we were close that way, though he did have his own toothbrush, as that is one of the things I don’t share.

But I digress.

Going to the truck, I find the battery dead and a bunch of field mice living in the glove box. They refused to pay rent, so I evicted them, before going back inside while charging the battery. Spent the next half hour chasing down dirty clothes that scampered around the house. This time I turned the kitchen table upside down on the laundry basket so they wouldn’t get away.

Going back out, I fired up the truck and headed for the store, about twenty miles away.

Even the potholes in the road seemed to jar my bones more than usual. So by the time I arrive at the parking lot after following Nettie Pyles in the only 20 mile no passing zone in the area, I was in a bit of a bad mood. Jumping from the truck, thinking to give her a piece of my mind about doing twenty-seven miles per hour in a fifty-five speed limit. I slammed the door. It would have probably made a loud bang had my thumb not been in the way.

Most of you women don’t know all it takes to be a manly man. Did I yell, scream and hop up and down? No sir! Not me! I did what any self respecting he man would do..I cried like a baby.

So I’m still sniveling as I stand in the detergent aisle, staring down the offending boxes. After all, it was their fault this had happened. They made my thumb look like a purple and red cucumber..and at that moment I truly hated them all!

Then this soft sweet voice from behind me asks if I need help. Do I ? !!! I need a medic! I need IV’s! I need my mommy! Turning to bite the head off the interloper, I see a beautiful woman-child. She is made even more beautiful by her lovely smile. Way too young for an old dog like me. She was about the same age of my daughter…if I had one.

Before you know it, I’m pushing the box of soap she pointed out around in a shopping cart as I looked for more things I might not be able to live without. Everyone I met was smiling at me. I didn’t get it. Did they see something green on me? Was my fly open? Then I realized that I was smiling too. : )

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