The City High Review

Luna

The bell above the storefront door chimes and swings back and forth as the string attached pulls it, I swear I’ll cut that thing down one day.

“Welcome to Mallords!-”

In walks a huge guy that looks like he’s already drunk twice his body weight; dragging his feet across the rug and immediately walking over to the beverage cooler aisle without sparing a glance my way.

So much for being hospitable.

Working here for the past three weeks has taught me two things, one: you have to wait hand and knee on customers with a tooth aching grin, and discount the regulars that somehow all know the owner. And two: not trust your coworkers who ask you to cover their crappy shifts.

Somehow, here I am achieving both. In no way am I some gullible,wide eyed person; I knew Gia was screwing me over by asking me to work a shift nobody wanted, but any money to go towards rent is good money. In some way she probably knew I wouldn’t say no anyway because we’re in two different situations. She works because her parents want her to experience a “ 9 to 5 lifestyle” while still funding her every need; I work to pay an ever growing list of money I owe to the world for breathing.

The man trips over his work boots a couple of times making his way up to the counter holding a six-pack, no way he plans on drinking all that alone.

He drops the drinks on the counter, if the force would have shattered the glass bottles I’m sure he’d just lick up the alcohol without a care of if the glass cuts his tongue. Anything to stay in that deranged state I guess.

“Gimme two of those Newports, too.”

He nods behind me,gesturing at the wall of cigarettes and cigars, jeez talk about a ticking time bomb.

I grab the key to the display doors and open the one he wants, and when I turn around again he’s leaning against the counter; so close that I can smell the beer coating his breath as he stares me down like he’s trying to figure out which part of me he wants a bite out of first.

“Never seen you around here before, was’ yer name?” 

Perfect! Now I’m dealing with a rude, sloppy drunk man who recognizes me as the opposite sex. If any que was needed to strike me down, this would be the one.

Ignoring him, I reach to my left and grab a plastic bag. Stuffing the beer and cigarettes in the bag, I won’t bother ringing him up because he looks like he left his wallet at whatever bar he came from.

“ Have a good night, sir.”

I grab the bag and place it next to one of his arms; maybe now he’ll take a hint that it’s time for him to go anywhere but here.

Before I could bring my hand back he grabbed onto me, forcing it against the counter holding it in place.

“ What the hell?!” 

He chuckles under his breath and begins caressing my forearm with his free hand, still holding a dazed eye contact while looking like someone straight out of a mugshot photo.

“ Hey, I’m talking to ya…’s not nice to disregard a customer.”

At this point, all the hitting and scratching I’m doing has no effect on him as if he’s just absorbing every blow. He begins pulling on my arm like he plans to drag me over the counter and I don’t think rationally before I grab a bottle from the bag and smash it over his head.

Glass debris is everywhere across the floor and his head as he yelps and lets go of my arm to hold onto his head. Blood is already running along his forehead as he staggers around the front of the store.

Looking down at my hand, there’s small cuts with blood oozing out of the gashes but adrenaline numbs the pain. What a drag this will all be to clean up.

A growl comes from the man that brings my attention back to the situation at hand, he’s now standing upright and breathing heavily like a tired dog. He balls his fists at his sides and starts trudging over to me, this time with ten times more intent than when he first walked in.

“ You little-”

His sentence is cut off by the bell, oh, what a lovely sound. It’s like an angel strumming a harp.

We both stop to look over at the door as another man walks in, this one a lot more sober. He takes in the scene of glass scattered on the floor and the man and I panting, we’re both on the same boat as tired dogs.

“ Am I interrupting something?”

He shows a toothy grin as he stares back and forth at me and the man, is this place just a hot spot for weirdos?

“ Mind yer own business, boy.” 

The man begins walking up to where the other stands before he stops in his tracks as he slightly lifts up his shirt to show a pistol tucked between his belt loop. The man’s eyes slightly bulge as he starts slowly backing away.

I’m stuck where I stand, watching this encounter occur and oddly enough; I don’t feel scared anymore, not even in the slightest. I’m not sure if this guy just has  perfect timing or if we have some secret Bat signal hidden in the store, but I’m certain I’d be on the local news by tomorrow morning if he hadn’t showed up when he did.

“ You should probably get outta here.”

He steps back and holds the door open, letting the cold air seep into the store. The man rushes out of the door, not forgetting to grab the wet bag of beer and cigarettes on his way out. What a moron.

The guy closes the door behind himself and steps over the glass, walking over to the candy aisle. He doesn’t look over at me at all as if this was just a normal Friday night routine for him.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to come back up to the register and place a bag of Jolly-Ranchers on the counter. What’s up with this guy? Just swooping in and saving the day only to act as if nothing happened? 

I unconsciously take in his appearance, he’s dressed in an all black sweater and jogging pants ensemble like he just came from a casual funeral of some sorts. I crane my neck up and we lock eyes, for a moment it feels like he’s inhaled all the oxygen in the room and left me to suffocate because his face is breathtaking. A soft yet chiseled structure paired with eyes that look like a mix of grass and mud. He has the perfect nose to eskimo kiss and-

“ Uh, You alright?”

I immediately avert my eyes down to the candy packaging, I didn’t think this night could get more chaotic but here I go underestimating life’s constant goal to chew me up and spit me out.

He places a couple five dollar bills on the counter and grabs the bag to tear it open.

“After I leave, you should clean up and go home.”

Nevermind, I think I’m breathing just fine now. His ego must be bloated because he’s got a gun on his hip.

“ Do you always just walk into convenience stores and start giving orders?”

He starts stuffing Jolly-Ranchers into his pockets and sets the opened bag back on the counter.

“Usually no, do you always bash drunk guys upside the head?”

“… Usually no.”

I cross my arms against my chest and share a grin with this stranger, his fades quicker though and is replaced with a more serious and stern expression.

“ That guy is gonna come back at some point tonight; especially if you’re all alone. So if you don’t want to keep relying on Bud Lights to save your life, it might be best if you leave and get yourself home.”

Before I can respond he’s already turning around and heading for the door, I look back down at the candy; there’s still some in the bag.

“You’re just leaving the rest of your candy?”

I hold up and shake the bag at him as he stares back at me in what looks like a mixture of playfulness and disturbance that I’d even ask that question.

“Yeah, I hate the Purple ones.”

The bell chimes one more time before the store’s quiet again.