Chapter 1: Another Day in Paradise
Time for another lovely day working at Wally World stocking shelves, dealing with idiots...I mean customers and pandering to my boss' whims.
This is really not what I saw myself doing in my late 20's.
I tried the whole college thing, but between my hate of people in general, bipolar, and a tendency to procrastinate when I get bored with things, I just ended up with a mountain of debt and getting dropped after the first year.
But I digress, I'm suppose to work the evening shift that runs from 3pm to 11:30, but somewhere along the lines it turned into the late evening shift with me working from 5pm to 1:30am.
Worst shift ever...really, not joking, I've lost all hope in the future of humanity.
From 5 to about 7, you get all the impatient people coming in to grab things after getting off work.
They apparently don't have any time to spare to actually use their eyes.
I swear one more person asks me where the ketchup is while I'm stocking mustard and I'm shoving them in the trash compactor.
Seriously, look up, we have signs at both sides of the aisle that clearly states condiments, it's impossible to miss the cart full of mustard I'm grabbing from, and I don't think a store exists that doesn't stock the ketchup next to the mustard.
Between 7-11, the store is mostly dead, so there's not much to do after you finish stocking up the shelves from the after work idiot that lacks common sense rush.
Unfortunately, that means the multitude of too good to get their own hands dirty, or actually pitch in, managers task me to do whatever else may be needed in the whole bloody store.
Today seems to be my turn at maintenance, apparently some calamity happened in the women's restroom in the back.
I don't know what you need to do to actually end up with the toilet falling off the wall...that right, off the fucking wall, but it happened.
The only thing I can imagine is some fat ass that is afraid to touch their sweaty ass to the toilet squatting on the seat, and crack....wait, think I'm gonna puke.
Quick think of something else...a hottie was practicing tap dancing on the toilet...ok, think we're good.
After 11, it turns into the parade of freaks, we get everything from goths, emo and punks to tweekers and the outright bizarre.
I never knew hanging out at a supermarket was a thing for high schoolers until I started working at one.
Honestly, I don't have much of a problem with school kids if they aren't walking around eating and drinking the product.
Seriously, who do you think has to clean that shit up? Sure as hell not maintenance, NO, we don't have one at this time, so ME asshole, that's who!
Most of them just roam around the store, listen to music, bounce through the isles on the fitness balls and play dodge ball with the giant super bouncy balls.
You'd think I'd be pissed at that last one right, but nope...I get a sick pleasure from watching them ricochet all over the store before taking my last break.
You've got to love the policy at Wally World, you can't be forced to work during breaks, *ahahahah*.
It's almost as fun as hiding in the clothing racks to freak people out..."Not your size fat ass!" *wahaha*, oh you're fast for a 300lb tub of lard...
The rest are a pain though, as they tend to try to sneak things out, or just crawl into the bathroom to puke or sleep off the high...1:30 never comes quick enough.
Finally I hear the oh so sweet words from the dic...I mean manager, I've been waiting to hear all night.
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"Mike Cullen, it's 1:30, don't forget to clock out before you go home."
This pompous ass refuses to call anyone with anything but their full name, makes him sound like a robot half the time.
Alright, I'm officially off the clock, time for one more rack surprise!
After looking around, I spot a group of goth looking girls browsing the women's section and make my way over.
I manage to get into a rack of decidedly risqué lingerie, mostly see-through lace camisoles and babydolls with matching panties, before the girls begin to browse it.
After looking over the rack for a while, one of the cuter ones picks out an eye-catching pitch black cammy with hot pink lacing.
I managed to say "Nice choice!" before she let out a scream that felt like it ruptured my ear drums.
While I hate this job, I need the money...so I did what any red blooded American would do.
I ran as if my life depended on it, which it kind of did, to and out of the side exit. "Over react much, DAMN, my ears are still ringing."
Deciding it may be best to get home quick in the hope of using time as an alibi, I head off over the hill toward my apartment.
Even so early in the morning, plenty is still going on, I live in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the home of the philly cheese steak.
It takes about half an hour to walk home the long way, but since I need to get home quick for my alibi, I dash through the back alleys.
The alleys can be dangerous, there are gangs and various scum of society type people running around at this hour after all.
I'm pretty confident in myself though, so I risk it, which turns out to be a mistake.
Three of said scum close in on me soon after, "asking" for my hard-earned money, with knives...so much for my alibi.
Rather peeved from my crushed plan, but exited at letting out some frustration, I smile brightly and take a page from Steve Austin, flipping them a pair of birds.
Obviously not taking it well, the first moves in to stab at me, rather clumsily, with his little pocket knife.
As he closes in, all I can think is, [If I had one of my knives on me right now, it would be the perfect time to pull a Crocodile Dundee impression.]
Once he stabs at me, I side step to my left and brush his arm to the right side of my body.
As he goes to pass by me from momentum, I link our arms at the elbows, pivot on my right foot to move behind him, and grab his head with my left hand pulling it back hard as I bring my knee up to meet it.
When he crumbles, the second one charges, trying to take me out quick while my back is turned...asshole.
I touch my left foot to the ground, spin it to face away from me, and use the torque on my leg to spin my body around, launching a quick front kick right up between the second attackers legs.
He drops the knife and falls to his knees as I say aloud, "Ouch, that's gotta hurt." I may have gotten a little full of myself, sue me.
Expecting the third guy to come rushing at my any second, I step up to the guy on his knees and place my left hand on his shoulder and right on his head, getting ready to end him with a solid knee to the chin.
As my knee comes off the ground, I look up to try and spot the third, only to see a beretta pointed at my face.
My knee connects to it's target and I manage to blurt out "Fuck" before seeing a pretty flash and everything goes dark.