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Welcome back to liquor store 038** north.
Marla came in, as she does. Pint, shift, pint shooters. She wears a black baby doll top with bleach stains, gray jeans, with short curly hair. Her tummy hangs over her jeans, but not in a bad way. Just a life way, if that makes sense. She’s somewhere between her 30s and 50s, but life hasn’t treated her kindly enough to know the difference. Someone shorted her on a table. She doesn’t have to pay all of it back, it’s 50% of the table minus gratuity. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, but I don’t ask. She said you’d be surprised at who dinedashes a table, it’s usually 25-35 year old white women. I wasn’t really surprised or indifferent to this bit of information. Her daughter is about to move to Arizona, she’s a little worried she may be pregnant.
There’s a guy, Jason. He’s maybe 35. Always looks like he’s ready to party, swim trunks and a long sleeve fishing top. He starts around 10:15 am. A few times, I’ve been early for a truck delivery, and I’ve seen his gold Honda accord in the parking lot nearing 8 am. He buys 2 Titos half pints and a pint of fireball from the cooler. A few Sundays ago, I saw the dying glimmer of the 90s paint job and let him in before opening. He was headed to the lake, and I wasn’t scared to be alone in the store with him. He bought his Tito’s and a bag of ice. He usually swings back by for another pint in the afternoon, (my night shift says he’s been by for a few Tito’s shooters and they’ve been hesitant on the sale, but made it,) a shade darker and a softness to his eyes. He’s a good dude.
I had some of the bourgeois today. A wedding in June that they wanted to plan. Pink floral dresses, windsong perfume. Coifed hair and gold bangles. They complimented me on my French pronunciations of certain wines. I didn’t tell them it’s because I come home from a long day at the shop, pour a ~half bottle~ glass of wine, and watch YouTube. I have no idea which Rosé pairs with shrimp, but I fake it.
William came in. He wasn’t the first customer in, he never is. He always waits until 9:05, sitting in his car. He lets someone else wander in first. He is starting a DND table. I remember DND from an old boyfriend in the 90s, and I tried to make Magic The Gathering references. It was a good day for him, and me.
It was a calm day. No glass was broken. No one was asked to leave. Nothing of exception happened. Lots of regulars, a few kids, 2 turned down IDs for various reasons. I have noticed a gorgeous bleached to submission blonde, who always wears large sunglasses. Always in full black, red lipstick. She’s clearly had work done on her forehead and lips, so I’ve never had to ID her. She’s averaging 2 bottles of Andre at a time in the mornings. She’s started calling me babe, and I’ve returned it with hey love.
Jay came in. He’s quiet. He only sees his PO on Thursdays, so he grabs a 12 pack of Bud. He hates his PO, though I think fair warning of a drug test is kinda chill of the officer. Though, I do think the system is rigged. So I balk at The Man with him.
I’d be happy to report in a week if you’d like. Customers make my days better.
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