Tamar wasn’t having it

'Name?'
Was the first and last thing
he said to me.
I answered.
And as I began to offer more,
he turned and got to work.
My schedule was out of order.
Stopping mid week to 
pick up groceries
was humbling.
Time is never regained
once lost.
Sunday I was distracted.
I missed items.
So, here I am;
at a new store,
a Wednesday interloper,
with a new person.
I guess, I am the
new person too.
Tamar stopped suddenly
and looked out over
an adjacent field.
The parking lot butted up against 
a promised expansion 
of some store 
currently in the plaza.
It was puddled and 
strewn with broken things; 
fencing, floes of Styrofoam,
patches of grass,
shattered adolescent
tree trunks.
In the distance,
a hypertensive highway 
teemed with commuters.
The dull crashing of crates 
snapped my attention back 
to task.
Tamar was already in motion,
returning to the depot.
At the warehouse door
he threw one more
glance over his shoulder 
at the chaotic field,
shook his head, 
and entered.

Janice has to stay late

I could tell at ‘hello’ that the day was not going well. 

My groceries barreled towards me.

The green, red, and blue crates bounced drunkenly as she approached.  

She let go of the handle and the cart continued to roll and barely winced when the rusted corner smashed into her calf. 

Without pause she launched. 

‘Day was average until 30 minutes ago. Then it went to shit.’

I grimaced then sympathized. 

‘It got hot out. Must make it tougher to hustle in and out of the store. Ya know, with the temperature change.’

I was struggling. 

She knew it. 

This moment has played out before. 

I check in, I get engaged, I get chatty then realize I do not have enough story to navigate the waters. 

It’s not that I misread the moment, more like a stumble. 

The jolt of being brought directly into the center of the story at light speed was jarring and raw, without recovery time.

‘The kid that is suppose to come on at 4:00 called in, he’s not coming into work.’

I want to commiserate. That happened to me countless times when I was running restaurants. 

There’s no chance to respond. 

‘My manager will expect me to stay longer… without asking specifically. He can’t actually make me stay though.’ 

She stared at me, dead-eyed, nodding, willing me to take a side.

I remembered that moment too. 

My boss would avoid a direct question.  

He would say things like, ‘We gotta all pull together.’

And that he would, ‘Remember our commitment.’

‘I won’t stay this time.’ She promises over her shoulder. 

I want to believe her. 

But. 

I stayed every time. 

And each time I swallowed a bait-less hook without hesitation.