Page 4

“Jessie to the front office please, Jessie to the front office,” rang throughout the store. I rolled my eyes and grumbled under my breath as I took the few short steps to the office. After a pointless conversation about the night manager’s possible upcoming promotion, I returned to my register and glanced down the aisles, searching for my customer. I found her making her way toward the door with her head down and arms crossed. It was obvious that this thin woman had added quite a bit of bulk underneath her sweatshirt since she entered the store. Instead of following the procedures I had learned in my training and alerting management, I moved to confront her myself. There I stood blocking her way. She looked up at me, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, struggling to keep whatever was hidden under her shirt concealed. I reached for her and opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. Then I remembered the candy bar in my pocket and the measly 17₵ on her food stamps. I looked at her, bruised and broken and I reached into my pocket.

“I have this,” I all but whispered, “I don’t think I want it. Would you take it?” I held the chocolate out and watched her expression change from defeat to confusion. 

“Okay,” she said and she took the candy from my hand.

“Well, I hope you have a very nice night.” I turned and made my way back to my register as she hurriedly slipped through the automatic doors and out into the night. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that my candy bar might finally see some use. 

The End

0 comments about this story Feed