Seeing as this is my first post of this sort, I feel as though I should fill you in on my life a little bit. Well, a small portion of it. I'm a college student majoring in English Education and Journalism. I really enjoy writing and I'm not the worst at it. For the past two years of my life, starting in high school, I have been a clerk at a convenience store....I work the graveyard shift. Yes, you read that right. A 20 year old girl works from midnight until 8 am. Thus far, I haven't had any major life threatening experiences like many may think, but I have had plenty of experiences worth writing about. People ask me all the time what the craziest thing is that's happened to me while being there and to be honest, it's hard to pick just one. So, without further ado, I present to you the first of many and I'm sure not the last, experiences from my job.
I have never been a very eloquent speaker. I'm the type of person to say things completely off the wall and then continue to ramble about them until they make sense. This technique has not once worked in my favor, but yet I still do it. It's a curse. Anyway, there is this guy who comes in about every other night that I work. I would guess he's probably about 26 or so and I like to call him Raymond. I'm not quite sure what his real name, nor do I really care, so to me, he is Raymond. He's the silent type and we never exchange a lot of words, just the generic "Camel Menthol Silvers for you, tonight?" Sometimes I actually get a verbal answer consisting of a lackadaisical "yes," however, it's usually just a head nod.
The back story on this guy, I've come to learn, is that he works at a restaurant downtown and walks from there to my work, which is no walk in the park. By the time he makes it to the store, he is always very sweaty, hot....and shirtless. He stands outside for awhile and goes through this long process of taking off his bag, digging in it searching for his shirt, putting his shirt on, closing his bag that the zipper gets stuck on, and then placing his bag back across his body. All of this to come in and put up with me for 30 seconds while he purchases cigarettes.
After about a month of this constant occurrence and a quasi bond with this guy, I decided to make his life a little easier....which was dumb. I know people tell you to help others, but it just makes you look foolish.
Our conversation went a little something like this:
"You know, you don't have to put on your shirt to come inside if you don't want to....uhhh, I mean...I see that it takes you a long time to put it on only to take it off again 20 seconds later...you know...yeah. That whole "no shoes, no shirt, no service" isn't a thing here. We serve shirtless people."
"Basically, you just want to see me shirtless, is what you're saying. I'll be sure not to wear one next time, just for you."
Essentially, I try to be nice and the man thinks I'm majorly hitting on him. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm really not that great at flirting, but I'm a whole lot better than that. I literally just face palmed myself when he winked at me while he walked out the door.
I didn't see Raymond for a couple of weeks, so I thought I may have scared him and it probably would have been for the best. Out of nowhere, here he comes through the door. Shirtless. "I left my shirt off like you asked," he said. I finished his transaction and as he walked through the door, I got my second wink.
I haven't seen him since that last time, but I'm sure I'll see him again soon. Maybe since it's cold, he'll just keep his shirt on.
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