Chapter 1:
He stood on the other side of the register buying shit. Shit like food and toiletries, same shit I buy. But he couldn’t talk to me.
I fucking hate the color red. Red shirt, red shoes. It gets old really fast, and it barely pays the bills. I’ve been a slave for all the almighty bullseye for 3 years now. I remember when I actually use to like shopping at target, when I actually enjoyed the discounted items. When I use to enjoy wearing red. Now, for a whopping eight hours a day, five days a week, I get to ring up over priced clothing and frou-frou snack foods. I give metaphorical rim jobs to Mr. and Mrs. I-pay-taxes-so-bite-me, while I stand inside my little red box. I keep putting stickers over the clock, so I can trick myself and feel like the time is passing by. So many faces pass me by. Motherly, innocent, evil, but they’re at least all free. At least free from their own personal Target. Free to leave me behind with whatever attitude they feel I deserve, and just leave me there. As, I, the soulless money drone have completed my task and assisted them for their shopping purposes. They collect their items, and walk through the red automatic doors.
Today, I’m on register number 14, the furthest register from the exit. The sunday afternoon light floods through the windows, and freedom is as yellow and warm as ever. And through the door, and the sun’s shadow, a man strolled in. He was tall, thin, and had long light brown hair. And he strolled in, leaving the arms of the sun striving to grab hold of him. But he just kept on walking, my eyes beside him. He was swallowed by the dishware aisle.
A pair of heels followed by a woman clacked their way into my lane. A woman whose lips looked like she ate a bunch of strawberries and hair smelled like brownies smiled at me. She unloaded a bunch of red candles on the conveyor belt. My face knew it before I did, but my lips pursed into small grin.
“Find everything ok?” I asked.
“Girl, I found everything I needed.” She giggled, her voice bright and sweet.
“Is that so?”
“Oh Yes, sis. These candles are going to change things up!”
There goes my face acting before I want it to, my eyebrow cocking all the way to the far north of my head.
“Is it because they’re not white?”
“Oh, so you know,” she said biting her lip impishly, “I’m sure it’s valentine’s day everyday at your place, huh?”
“Uh, I’d say more like an unwilling forceful version of lent.”
The woman laughed her cheeks a bright cheery red.
“Well, then you might need a some of this,” she said placing one of her small delicate hands on my shoulder. She handed me two of her red candles from the abundance she just purchased.
“Passion.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Red is the color of passion. You light the red candles to spark passion, if you know what I mean.” she said winking her pretty little eye. “My man loves me, he just needs to be better at it. A hell of a lot better at it. That’s lighting all these motherfuckers up tonight.”
Damn, at least she had one.
“Oh, it’s really not necessary, I don’t uh, have a um boyfriend...”
“So? Use it for whatever, when the time comes, you’ll know when to use it.”
“Oh, alright. S-sounds cool, thank you very much!”
With the damage reported and the ‘passion’ stowed away in plastic bags, she waved me goodbye as the doors swallowed her. Red. All around me. Inside me. On my Shirt. This color that lives inside my skin and pumps through my veins. This so called passion, yet it is stagnant. Unmoved blood curdled and straighten, only stimulated by shower nozzles and when I cross my legs tight enough.
My ankles inched watching her walk through the door, and from the corners of my eyes brown hair poked at my eyelashes. I snapped my neck and there he was. The long haired sun man.
“Are you open?” He said as his long veiny arms clutched to various items.
“Oh! Uh, yeah-yeah totally.”
With half assed nature, he pursed his lips and then unloaded his stuff onto the belt.
shampoo, conditioner, bananas, and a bottle of wine. Out of all 14 registers he decided to come to mine? I craned my head around my eyes sweeping the room, the other two registers where backed up. My line was the shortest. Of course.
He opened his phone, his eyes glazing over the screen. I began scanning his finds. He wore a white shirt with some weird monster on it, and cargo shorts. He smelled faintly of the outside world, and some fruity cologne. I couldn’t tell if it was passion fruit or melon, some weird manly fruit.
Gathering at the nape of my neck and the palms of my hands, sweat emerged. And I suddenly regretted leaving my water in the fridge in the break room. Why does every freaking somewhat attractive guy make me feel this way?
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I finally said after eye balling the living christ out of him.
“Yep,” He said his eyes fixated on his phone.
“Cool…”
“So, is this conditioner any good?”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“Cool, cool.”
His thumbs just swiping down, down, down on the screen. His eyes looking down, down, down. Away from me. I folded my tongue again. What the hell is so interesting on that phone? I took my time scanning everything, and I only watched him from the side of my eye. It was cool, He was Still staring at the phone screen. I scanned the bottle of wine. From its 6 minute rest, My tongue sprawled out.
“May I uh See your ID, please?”
He blinked moistening his dry eyes from the dim light of the screen, and reached his free hand into his pocket. He fished for his license, and for a moment our eyes met. His eyes were the same shade of brown as his hair. his gaze cold and distant shrouded behind thick eyelashes.
He pinched the corner of His ID and handed it to me.
Vladimir Issac, The tall, Sun man was named Vladimir Issac. He was born in November of 1994. He was just two years older than me. It was definitely him in the ID photo, long hair, heart shaped face, only difference was he was smiling. Well, more like smirking. Very faint and uninterested.
I fed my eyes a little bit, and then handed him back his ID. He plucked it off the palm of my clammy hand.
“Thank you…” I said clearing my throat.
He nodded.
“So, um, your total is $20.40”
He whipped out his card and inserted the chip. And we just stood there. He put his phone back into his pocket and stared at the pin pad, and I ‘stared’ at the ground and not at his abnormally long fingers.
The Pin pad sung and he was about to leave me forever in this Red hell.
“Thank you,” I said handing him his bags.
“Thank you,” He said. Huh, he had manners. Who knew?
Lacing his arms in grocery bags, His long figure turned away from me. The arms of the sun light pouring through the door embraced him, and then Vladimir Issac was gone.
My eyes lingered on the door.
“Hello?” A voice called out to me, I turn to find an annoyed woman clinking her nails on the pin pad.
“Are you gonna keep zoning out or are you gonna ring me up?”
“Oh, I’m really sorry about that, Ma’am.” Fucking bitch.
As the fire of entitlement flew out her mouth, the woman unloaded both her rage and items onto the belt. My eyes were open, My head nodding with automation, I stood there absorbing her insults. But man were his eyelashes long! Vladimir.. What kind of name is that? what, are his parents like Stalin worshippers or something? Hmm, and he likes wine. I don’t know too many guys that young who actively buy wine, but then again I don’t really know anyone. He brought himself a zinfandel. Hmm, maybe he had a rough week. Could that be why he was stalking his phone like it was his helpless prey?
And The woman didn’t know how to button her yap. when I thought that this woman would be the only ugly encounter I’d face for the day, I was ambushed. I don’t know how, but the stiletto nailed hag summoned an entire army of karens' with her. It was like they could smell the flesh of the overly worked and underpaid and they just have to soothe that craving. Unfortunately, The great karen invasion lasted until the very last hour of my shift. My eyes were practically raping the door, and when it was time to clock out, I flew away.
It seemed that the tall sun man, I mean Vladimir had taken the sun with him. I was left with the hopelessness of the night sky and the lonesome moon in its breast.
I sighed as I finally sat down in my car, the scent of cigarettes and dollars store air fresheners had never been so inviting. Pulling out of the parking lot, and meeting the first red light on my journey back home, I looked out the window, Wondering where the sun went, wondering where he took it to. Wondering what he looked like when he smiled.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
