Thrift Store

6| apologies & worn out t-shirts

"Creativity is the greatest rebellion in existence."

- o s h o

***

FIRST IMPRESSIONS have always been an immense struggle for me. Whether it's meeting a new teacher, introducing myself to one of my mother's new boyfriends, or even trying to make new friends in my art class, I have never been famous for great first impressions. In fact, if I'm famous for anything, it's for being a terribly shy, awkward, blubbering idiot when meeting people for the first time.

So when a grumpy, sour faced old woman strolled into the small storage I was waiting in, it was no surprise that her first impression of my was terrible; I somehow managed to trip on the rug when I went to go shake her hand, and then when I was half way through falling, I made the idiotic mistake of grabbing onto the supply shelf next to me, resulting in all the contents of the the shelves spilling onto the ground.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry—" I scramble to my feet.

"Just help me clean it up, will you?" The old woman snaps, bending down with a scoff as she examines the slightly damaged merchandise.

"I am so sorry. I can pay for everything," I hurriedly bend down to help her clean everything up, my cheeks blazing with humiliation.

"No matter," she grumbles, "they were useless items anyways."

I remain silent with my eyes trained on the ground, briefly flickering my eyes up to examine the old woman's appearance; her salt and pepper colored hair is pulled tight into a bun on the crown of her head and her clothes are tattered and plain—unlike the items in this thrift store.

"Um, maybe I should just go," I mutter mostly to myself after we have finished cleaning up the broken glass and bits of cardboard off the ground.

"Not quite yet. I would like to know why you have come into my store, ruined my merchandise, and wasted my time." The woman crosses her arms in front of her, her cold eyes trained down on me as the scowl remains permanent on her wrinkled face.

"U-uh," I stutter. "I was just stopping by to apply for a job here and I never meant for this to happen, I swear, it was an accident and—"

"Goodness gracious, girl, stop your stuttering and introduce yourself like a mature adult," she snaps in a slightly southern accent, causing me to cower back in fear.

I stare at her, shocked, before I snap myself out of it. "My name's Sophia."

The woman's face pales under the dim lighting, her frown vanishing as a look of utter shock and devastation overcomes her face.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" I say warily, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion as she takes a step away from me.

"Sophia?" She questions in a breathy voice before clearing her throat and composing herself.

I suddenly realize how awkward and tense the atmosphere has become in a matter of seconds, and instead of scampering out of the room like I might have done in this sort of situation, I nod my head confidently. Why did she become sad when I introduced myself?

"I'll just, go," I say as I look around awkwardly.

"You're hired," the woman rushes out.

My eyes widen. "What?"

She clears her throat, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing me up and down with narrowed eyes. "I said, you're hired."

The old woman then proceeds to throw an old worn out t-shirt at me with the words Sunflower Thrift-Store printed on it in big letters before strolling briskly out of the room, leaving me with my jaw on the floor as her words fully register in my brain:

Hired.

***

Hey, everyone who is still reading this! It feels like months since I last updated because I've been hella busy, but if anyone is still reading this, then this chapter is dedicated to you! you guys still make me smile when I come on Wattpad every day. anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed this short little chapter as much as I liked writing it. It felt nice to be able to write again.

- mae