Monday, December 23, 2013

The Life of Clerks - A Short Prototype Story

The Life of Clerks - A Short Prototype Story
By: Gustavo Simmons

Aaron Burdick was trapped in the same job since he was 16, at age 32 he was getting annoyed by the repetition and stupidity of some people. Working in a supermarket was an experience he hated but down in the south of Miami, there weren't many jobs for someone who didn't had too much experience with something else that wasn't retail.
At 7:00 am his day started, sometimes it ended at 6pm, a long day without a really decent paycheck, he wondered how he lasted that long.? He hated the job and he hated how the customers acted toward everyone.
People were uneducated, even in the best neighborhoods, they were rude in order to get items for free as well they abused the use of coupons and overall they thought they knew everything in life.
But, the most annoying part was the debacle of if it was paper or plastic.? How can a simple courtesy question could be such a pain in the ass.? The worse for Aaron was that he couldn't fight back or he could get fired, sustaining stupid insults made Aaron lose some his soul and don't even care; just to fake it, as a gold-digger in order for them to keep coming.
Not far away from the customer service desk, in the grotto passing aisle seven and the cereal section, where no clerk want to lure, there were the deli-people. The forbidden land were a few came out alive.
Paula Spaulding was looking the customer gathering as beasts in the open concept kitchen, her red hair that was original blond started to fade away because of the fumes. She couldn't scent anymore, she only scented rotisserie chicken and cold cut meats. Even chocolate scented as their premium brand, the Moose Horns Chipotle Cajun Smoked Chicken.
Her existence was damned to taste everything as the products they sold, she was miserable because there was nothing else she could ate that taste well with the exception of the products they made.
She wanted to throw a slash to some of the people they asked for the meats; they weren't industrialized machines, they were human beings. Every day it was cleaning and cutting, chopping and not stopping. Customers looked like beasts who were always hungry for fried chicken.

The same essence that nightmares that were made of. Suddenly she snapped, it was her break time.

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