Four minutes left. I took a deep breath as I walked all the way around the deli counter and reached for the abandoned item. I flipped it over, unsure what to expect it to be. A library card? Some membership card?
My initial thoughts were scattered as I glanced at the same face that was before me just a few minutes ago. It was his god damned drivers license.
KHATIB, FAYSAL
VIENNA, VA
SEX: M
EYES: BRN
HAIR: BLK
HT: 5'11”
DOB: 07-23-96
I blinked as my eyes sweeped over the personal information about him. The more I looked at his face, the more he and his friends seemed familiar.. but this is Walmart, I remind myself. Hundreds of people walk around here every day. He probably just looks like someone else I've seen. I also unintentionally remind myself that I have landed a shitty job as soon as the ripe age of seventeen. Fantastic.
Before I got too consumed the fact that his height was obviously incorrect, as he seemed an inch or two taller, I decided I should go find him, return it in a civilized manner, then go home as normally planned. My day wasn't about to be fucked with because some picky, deja-vu-conjuring, tall teen fucks left behind a piece of plastic. I refuse it.
Three minutes left, I mentally note. This license in my hand is my responsibility for three more measly minutes. Once that time is up, it's not my problem anymore, and I get to go home to unseen Netflix episodes and a Lush bath bomb.
Unluckily for me, the store today was packed as fuck, a soccer mom seemingly in every isle I peeked in trying to snatch the new back to school deals. This hindered my original speedy find, return, flee plan that I was so desperately trying to execute to avoid a lecture from Oscar Benson, my boss who I'm almost positive channels Satan every time he's near me. Two minutes left.
I had already scoped out the entire food and clothes section of the store, which only left- well, several departments left, but I highly doubt they were in the likes of the cosmetics or gardening section, seeing as they're teenage boys and would prefer to spend their time not picking out a new shade of lipstick or awing over petunias. I glanced down at my watch. One minute left. I couldn't possibly walk around the entire Walmart in 60 seconds and return this piece of shit license to them, assuming I can't even locate them in the first place.
In a fit of frustration, I fumbled with the latch on the back of the watch, throwing it off into the dumpster close to me. Fuck you for not being able to slow down time, I silently dismissed the shitty watch. And fuck you for ticking every second like I don't know the one-mississippi two-mississippi trick and can't tell when a normal second has passed.
Unsure of what to do with Faysal's license, I shoved it into my pocket, figuring I'll report it tomorrow. I didn't feel like being here anymore. I don't care if my shift wasn't over just yet. I was out of here.
My morning was going relatively peaceful. I quickly tied my hair up before starting my day as I glanced into the body-length mirror on the wall. I scoffed at the blatant bags under my eyes. Whatever. I don't need to look like a princess as I eat my breakfast.
