"It must suck," I said, beer breath escaping, "That you have to stay open so late on a Friday."
The girl looked up from her listless clicking of her computer screen, her eyes dazed. She look Indian, or Sri Lankan maybe, although race shouldn't be a matter, she should just be a person. I place my purchase on the counter.
"Yeah", she agreed, her eyes slightly creasing at the edges, "It does...you want that?"
"Yes thanks."
"We're open 'til like, 8, no, 9pm. It's totally bedtime by the time you're done."
"I can imagine" I said. "And there'd be only someone every 20 minutes after a certain time...not very exciting."
She scanned the barcode and swiped my card with precision and speed.
"Cheque, Savings or Credit?"
I pressed the keypad, watching my invisible money disappear into the ether.
"Do you work in retail too?" She asked.
I paused, not know really how to answer the question - it was not so much that she wanted to know what I did, but why I realised that her job was shit.
"No," I answered, "I've just come to come to realise these things." I felt inadequate at expressing who I felt.
"I appreciate you being here." I added.
She smiled and almost laughed. "Thanks."
I left the store.
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