Page 39 of Powerless

“You haven’t gone to one party since we’ve been here.”

“I’m not really into partying.”

“Ugh, you’re such a boring hillbilly.”

“A hillbilly?” I say with humor. “Boring, yes, but a hillbilly? No.”

“Come on,” she whines as she lolls her head backward. “Just one party. And I promise I’ll never bug you again.”

I scrunch my nose at the thought of going to a party with Faith. “I have to start getting ready to head in to work.”

“You’re working today?” Faith stares at me with an open mouth. “Blow off work and come with me.”

I sit up in bed and cross my legs, mimicking Faith. “I’m not the partying type. You know that.”

Faith throws her pillow, which I easily dodge. “You’re no fun.” She pushes up off the bed and comes over to my side to retrieve her pillow. “One day, girl, I’m going to drug and blindfold you and drag you to a party kicking and screaming.” She smiles triumphantly.

I tilt my head to the side as I purse my lips together. “There’s a lot going on in that sentence that just doesn’t make sense.”

Faith flicks her hand at me before opening her drawers and rifling around to find what she wants to wear. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. You’re a nutcase who’s hellbent on me going to a party even though you know parties aren’t my scene.”

“I know, I know, but you can’t blame a girl for trying. I think you’d have a great time.”

I shrug as I stare at Faith getting her stuff ready. “Maybe, or maybe not.” I stand and stretch my arms up over my head. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

I grab my uniform and head out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom so I can change.

* * *

Michelle taps me on the shoulder and I turn to look at her. “These customers can fuck off,” she whispers to me.

“It’s not that bad today.”

“I just had a jerk tell me he wanted me to wait while he picked his grapes off the stem because he didn’t want to pay for something he wasn’t going to eat.”

I glance around to make sure there are no customers offloading their carts onto the conveyor belt. “What did you say to him?”

“The same thing I said when he wanted me to peel his bananas for the same reason. I told him that if he does that, I’m going to weigh all the shit he discards and make him pay for it.”

A customer begins stacking groceries on the belt, and I turn back to scan and bag them. “I can’t believe people do that,” I say to Michelle in a low voice while the customer continues to empty the cart.

“Extreme cheapskate, eat your heart out. I bet he has a multi-million dollar house with all the latest gadgets.”

“Can you imagine how much he’s saved over his lifetime by picking each grape off the stem? Maybe ten dollars?” I ask.

“If that.”

My customer glares at me, unimpressed with Michelle and I talking. “Did you find everything okay today?” I ask and offer him a large smile.

“Yes,” he curtly replies.

“Great.”

He glares at me, making it super uncomfortable, so I scan through his items as fast as I can to get rid of him. The entire few moments he’s at the register, he continues to huff while repacking what I’ve already done. “It’s not that hard to pack the damned bags properly,” he snaps at me.

“I’m sorry.” I can feel my mood deteriorating because of this assclown.

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