#slice of live

I am a cashier at a super sleepy supermarket.

And every now and then these two oder man come to me they always come together and bant with each other and in my had cannon they are super duber gay for each other.

Today one of them said something slightly racist so i don't like them and they are not colerful gays and definitiv not dan and phil gay

Sam nodded. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. You know where to find me.”

Harrison ambled on towards the fried chicken corner. The sign proudly proclaimed Haddad’s Chicken Frier. He didn’t know who Haddad was. The grocery store was called Champ’s General Store, and as far as he could tell, Charlie Champ was a caucasian gentleman, and Haddad was a Semitic name. Possibly originating from Aramaic, but maybe also Arabic, Harrison wasn’t sure. He wasn’t much of a language expert. He could hardly manage English, but two his credit, nearly 80% of the English language is words descended from or loaned from approximately 350 other languages, some of them not even part of the Western Germanic linguistic family. There was Maori in there, Japanese, a lot of Greek and Latin. Even more Latin iif you consider the influence of French after the Norman Conquest of 1066, immortalized in the Bayeux Tapestry, in which Billy the Bastard (William the Conqueror to historians and others) led an army of Franks against the Anglo-Saxon occupiers of Great Britain, introducing the Frankish language (which itself is mostly a Latin-derived language, the Franks being a Germanic or Gaulish tribe that the Romans managed to subject to imperialism. Unlike Germany, which while not getting away unscathed linguistically, did get off with significantly more autonomy) to the Brits and establishing it as a language of aristocracy. It is a weird little language with more inconsistencies than a writer’s vanity project that the sheer scale of which necessitates a lack of editing from a first party to hit the truly absurd quota set before her.

Charlie was a friend of Harrison’s in high school, going all the way back to middle school, and then elementary school, and even preschool. They’d known each other as long as they could remember.they bonded early on over a mutual love of Star Wars, Transformers, spaceships, robots, and large explosions. Every year on their birthdays they would go see whatever new scifi movies were on the big screen, head to the arcade, and crash on sugar immediately upon returning home. Charlie was a large individual, a hulking 5’10” and 227 lbs of 80% muscle. He could benchpress something heavy, probably. Harrison certainly couldn’t so he wasn’t really sure what numbers were large. Charlie was an eternally kind if rather dimwitted soul, who often got into relationships that were not the best for him. He was a wrestler in high school, and to be honest, could make a good living doing it still, if he had the balls to wear makeup and grow his hair out. And then he would get a cool stage name and catchphrase and everything. That sounded kind of rad, to be honest. Charlie could do it, but he was a bit complacent as a person. He did not mind working Haddad’s Chicken Stand in the back of Champ’s General Store in Leaf Creek, Illinois, USA. 

“Howdy Harrison, How’se it goin? You don’t look so good. Did you get some vitamin D or something? You should probably do that. You’re lookin a bit pale, and that’s sayin somethin for you! Haha! You want some chicken?”

“I would kill for chicken.”

“Well you don’t have to, because these ones are already dead!”

“I’m not sure I still want chicken.”

“Oh. Ok, I’ll-”

“I’m joking Charlie, sorry. I’d like the usual, please.”

Charlie looked at Harrison with horror. “The usual? Are you quite alright?”

“Just get me the chicken, Charlie.”

Charlie gulped in a cartoonish manner, fear and trepidation looking strange on his massive form. He dutifully got out three baskets, and filled each to bursting with chicken. Charlie was Harrison’s, Cass’s, and Ant’s favorite frier jockey, because Charlie liked them and could never get it through his head that he’s not supposed to fill the baskets like a house sale. It was not as-many-as-you-could-carry. But the owner of Champs and by extension haddad were too enamored with his ability to fix any issue, whether that be something around the store or personal in nature (he was a neutralizing force, like a lead rod in a nuclear reactor, for heated customers demanding to see managers). He was a stand-up fellow and they didn’t want to make him sad, even if they lost them a littl ebit of money.

“That will be 137.75 dollars, harrison”

But not enough money.

Harrison dug his credit card out of his wallet, and put it on the table. Charlie ran it.

Declined.

He ran it again.

Declined.

He ran it again.

Declined.

He ran

“It’s fine, uh. Hm. Here”

Harrison took out his credit card. He hated using his credit card, he much preferred debit. But he didn’t have much of a choice. He wouldn’t get paid until the coming friday either. The credit card allowed him to delay the economic threat of his purchase. He knew deep in his heart how stupid credit cards were as a concept. He understood that they lowered the bar to make a purchase as a ploy to induce debt in people by handing them what is in there mind not real money. But the situation called for drastic measures and he was willing to be a drastic man. He still had other things to buy. Groceries. He could not remember the list. He just knew he needed to get things for the others. He didn’t want to only get stuff for himself. That would be rude and selfish.

“You should be good now, man. That’s rough. Hope things go better.”

Harrison nodded, and took the chicken it ins boxes in their bags, then went around the rest of the store and gathered items he thought the other two roommate s he shares a living space with might so desire. He grabbed yogurt, crackers, soda (two flavors, three bottles, 7up and crush), various meats that seemed alright, among other provisions. The Big Store Fugue State was beginning to set in, the horrible brain-melting feeling induced by the fluorescence of the metals in their tubes, excited byu ultraviolet  radiation to release their energy into the world as the proof that God hates us. Disgusting tubes of light. Nothing like their better older brothers the filament, or even the humble quantum breaking effect of the light-emitting diode. It breaks physics, and you chose to use its slightly less physics-breaking cousin over this beautiful piece of technology that is right there.

He stepped out into the blazing light of the early afternoon sun. It was not a long trip, but he must have woken up extremely late. Why were Cass and Antoni still home? Must be a saturday. Everyone buys groceries on Saturday. Unless they’re someone who buys them on sunday. The Dutch don’t buy groceries on Sunday though, because most businesses are closed. Not all of them. Businesses close very early in general in the Netherlands. Maybe it was all the seawater in the soil, from when they fought the war against the sea an dwon. They forced it out of their land and back into the sea using giants. Giants wielding swords with great prowess. A knight might want to fight them one day. Might be funny. I dunno.

Rn is almost 7pm. Vid was made closer to 11am

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