Checkout line 8. The cashier, Dahlia, had been on the register allfuckingday. Picked up one from lazy Sarah, what an asshole, she didn’t even need the job, because her parents paid for everything she needed. At least it was more money. Dahlia needed that shit. Rent had taken an unexpected leap upwards after D’Angelo left.
On automatic, Dahlia scanned the items, put them into the bags -heavy first, yes, and the square stuff together where possible, of course, double bag that one because it’ll be too heavy. Swipe, no wait, you need to wait for the -yeah, ok. Sign. Just click the yes. It was a script. Dahlia had written more complex code in her sleep.
Swipe. Beep. Swipe. Beep. “Yeah, it’s not ringing up, hang on.” Swipe. Beep. “Here’s your change.”
Crash, clatter and the customer went down. It was pretty spectacular, actually. They had decided to carry two heavy bags in each hand, the bring-your-own reusable kind, and as their foot slipped out back behind them, all four of the bags were swung in front of the customer as they tried to catch themselves. Instead, there was a sickening crunch. That was the eggs, judging by the yellow splatter, and, yes, Jerrica had forgotten the fucking wet floor sign. New script.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Dahlia even managed to put some passion into it. She hadn’t been the one to mop, but Carey wouldn’t give a fuck, especially not in front of the customer. He was a) creeping on Jerrica and so was trying to put her in his debt, and saving Jerrica’s job (with an added “but I could…” for maximum pressure) would work real well for that, b) would pick the closest target to menace anyway, and c) saw yelling at employees as a form of showmanship. If she could get the customer up and out the door before he found out, then she could get Jerrica to mop, saving both their asses. Good plan.
The customer was taking it in good humor, at least. Nothing, apart from the eggs, had busted, but there was still stuff covered in raw, gooey egg that needed to be taken care of. The customer was petite, with close-cropped hair coiled tightly against the skull. A floral skirt peeked out from under a large, warm-looking coat, and underneath the customer was wearing jeans. They waited for Jerrica -Dahlia had texted rather than call over the intercom. She wasn’t supposed to even have her phone, but fuck that. Jerrica took care of the customer while Dahlia kept the line moving so that Carey wouldn’t have a reason to come over before her shift ended, in 7 minutes.
The customer left, all eggy things gathered anew. Dahlia checked the clock. Thirty seconds past the end of her shift. Candi took over, Dahlia took off her apron, and walked outside to feel at least five minutes of sun before it went down for the day at 4:37. The customer was still loading their car, she saw. They had several packages already in the car, and seemed to be trying to fit everything into the corners and nooks left behind. Dahlia didn’t even think about what she was going to say before she started walking over.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Dalia started.
The customer didn’t respond. Dahlia cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder and clearer. “Uhh… Excuse me. Ma’am.”
Now the customer turned, face nearly expressionless. “Who are you calling ma’am?” Their words were quieter than they might have been.
“Oh man, I’m sorry sir -” Dahlia stopped. The customer’s hands had visible tightened, and were shaking. “Uh… Look, I just wanted to say thanks for not suing and getting me, you know, fired, and, uh, sorry for calling you ma’m, so, uh, sorry sir.”
The customer took a second too long to reply. There seemed to be a fight going on inside their head. What a fucking weirdo, just gonna turn and leave, no need to get much more into this. Dahlia smiled and opened her mouth to say ok bye then see ya round, but the customer got there first.
“No worries, I worked service before, it’s wet and shit, I should have looked out.” They hesitated, and Dahlia again opened her mouth, an again the customer started again. “Ah -and, uh, it’s not sir either. I’m not -I’m neither, ok?”
Dahlia froze her face into the same smile she used when at work. “Yeah. Sure. Well, I said my bit. Bye.”
Kim watched the cashier go. That, they thought, was probably the scariest thing they’d done so far. The first person they had officially come out to, other than big sister Kamala, who had accidentally found Kim’s forum post history, so it didn’t count. First a cashier, then mom. Then dad. Then… maybe grandaddy? Definitely not mom-mom, they thought, she’d probably have another heart attack and die of shock.
They let out a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding in. They continued to pack the car, got in, and drove away.
Reading Cactus 