07-22-2009

Blah.

Start Fiction:


     "Why are you such a bitch?" the cashier said in a calm, formal manner.
     "Excuse me?" Dee snapped, slapping her hand down on the counter hard, cracking the glass. "What the fuck did you just say?"
     Claire attempted to hand her the bag. "I was just curious as to what in your life led you to develop a personality that is classified as being a 'bitch'," she tried to explain.
     "Where in the hell do you get off calling me a bitch?" she demanded. "Where is your supervisor? I want to talk to your supervisor right now!" she screamed as she slammed her fist through the glass counter top. Nearby customers gasped, covering their mouths at the spectacle.
     "I am just asking a simple question, Miss," Claire said trying assure her that her intentions were innocent.
     "Get the fuck out my face before I bitch slap you back to last week," Dee screamed at her.
     Francis came running up to Claire's counter. Eyes wide, he took several noticeable deep breaths and swallowed hard. "Is there a problem?" his mousy voice cracked.
     "Is there a problem? Is there a problem?" Dee boomed as she spun in circles. "This here little twig asked me why I am such a bitch; do you see the problem?" Her face was red; a vain in her forehead throbbed.
     Francis stepped behind the counter to give himself some protection. "That... That is a problem," he said turning to Claire. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
     "I simply asked a question." Dee let out a grunt.
     Francis tapped his nose as his chin rested in his hand. "And what was the question?"
     "Why she is such a bitch," she said shrugging her shoulders. Francis buried his face in his hands, sighing.
     "BAM!" Dee yelled as she pointed at Claire.
     "What's the big deal, I was just curious," Claire said.
     "Go to my office, now," Francis ordered her. His voice was more firm; as firm as his voice could get. Claire moved away from the counter and headed to the back of the store. She untied her apron and dropped her head. Claire listened to the two as she walked away.
     "I do not have the words to apologize, ma'am," Francis began to grovel.
     "Damn right you don't!" she bellowed.
     "I assure you, this will be handled," he said.
     Fired, again, Claire thought. Just great.



End Fiction.