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Alexander Beetle is silently freaked
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Three young boys came into my store last night. I shall randomly name them Jason, Eric, and Eric Jr. The second Eric, I presume, is the brother of the first Eric; this is based on no actual detective work on my part, but only a vague hunch. I'm notoriously bad at guessing ages, but I'd place them at about 14, 14, and 12, respetctively. Anyway.
"That was a long walk," said Eric Jr. to no-one in particular as he walked into my store, "all the way from the hotel room, down the stairs and into the store, huh?" My store is parked next to an instance of a national hotel chain; the vast majority of the midnight business done in my store comes from there, and obviously, these boys were no exception. I greeted them as I greet all my customers, and stood patiently behind the counter as they split up and wandered the aisles. Eric went to look for something to drink, while Jason and Eric Jr. lingered by the HBA (health, beauty & accessories) shelf. Eric Jr. jokingly announced that he was going to get some Ex-Lax, but Jason told him that he didn't need any. Then they began giggling over the condoms ("Almost like using nothing at all! Heh heh!"), laughing while they compared brands and prices as though they intended to buy some. I smiled quietly to myself, remembering days gone by when such things as condoms and tampons were an endless source of adolescent amusement. "D'ya have any pizza?" I'd almost forgotten Eric was even there, until now. "Oh, yeah, we have pizza." "Really? How much?" I didn't know, but I led him to the cooler door where cold sandwiches and the like were kept, while Jason got his own drink and Eric Jr. passed from my vision entirely, and pointed to the individual microwave pizzas, $1.89 each, $2 even with tax. "Oh, that's okay, I was just messing with you." Wait a minute, I thought, I normally just direct them to the door from my post. Why did I just abandon it to personally point out pizzas I didn't really believe he intended to buy? Something was unsettling me, but I didn't know yet just what. Jason announced (more to them than me) that everything had been gotten. My longer legs and practiced gait beat Eric to the counter by nearly 10 seconds. Let's see... just two 1-liter Pepsis? No, here comes Eric Jr. with a bag of chips. "Is that everything?" Jason places the box he had in his hand on the counter next to the chips - a box of Trojans, blue, although what that signifies I don't really know, $2.89. I inhaled, intending to use the the breath to ask "Is this some sort of joke?", when Eric Jr.'s voice changes from it's previous sing-song to a more serious tone: "You got enough for all of us, right? You got three?" "Yeah," Jason replies, "it's three to a box." "Okay, good," said Eric Jr., then reverting to his original voice: "Hey, Orbit!"
A sudden monotone voice intoned: "It's a breath-freshening gum. It works very well."
The trio blinked at me, and in a split second I realized that the breath I had just taken in was gone. I had spoken. This wasn't Blaine, because I can't hear Blaine, but I heard this. This had never happened before, and I was somewhat taken aback. "Uh-huh," said Jason. "You can't have any gum, you have chips." I rang up the condoms; the total escapes me at the moment. "Buy me Orbit!" Eric Jr. laughed. Jason paid with a $20 bill. I gave him his change and he thanked me very politely. Eric Jr. kept babbling on his way out the door, but I didn't bother to remember anything more he said. The soles of my feet began to itch, an itch usually reserved for when I catch flies mating on the wall. I tried to tell myself it was all a prank, but Eric Jr. sounded too concerned about the number of condoms. My feet are itching now, just writing about it. Fuck.
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