It’s been a long day. I have a headache. A very nice frequent loiterer comes in. The sort of nice that grates. I find myself smiling and chuckling so fake much that my headache is now an upper torso ache.
"What time is it?" He asks.
"Ten of nine." I say.
"Oh, you close soon, I don’t want to be that guy that comes in right before you close and make you stay late."
I smile. “I appreciate that, but we’re open until ten tonight.”
"Still." he says "I should leave. I have things to do."
"Okay." I smile.
A series of customers come through. I smile. I laugh. I can now feel my brain throbbing in my left pinky toe. At 9:50, I start to count the cash drawer. At 9:55, Too Nice Loiterer walks BACK into the store. “I guess I have some time to kill.” He says.
I feel like killing something, too. But it’s not time.