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by nimwia Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Nonsense · #1597472
short story for a writng class
Mini-Mart Life.


I considered just driving past the house, because I wasn’t ready for the argument that was surely coming. Would I angry if Tina came in at 3:00am? I could just wait and go straight to work; that’s only four more hours and at this point, it wouldn’t matter. She would say “You stay out all night and…..Blah, Blah, and Blah”. I know she would never understand. I am a quiet accountant. I don’t like conflict. I could easily find a more understanding woman. I’m tall and well-built, rather nice looking if I do say so myself. Bon bons and soap operas make up Tina’s days and she has nothing better to do than to make things up in her mind. I would rather be working than at home, even though I hate my boring job. Being married to Tina was not working out no matter how I tried. I loved her at one time. The smell of her long dark hair and the look in her big almond eyes, and she was elegant and kind, but now I can’t take her high maintenance attitude.
Stopping up the street three houses from mine I just stared at it. It always looked the same, edged bushes along the walkway leading to the porch. Perfectly manicured lawn like all the other houses lined up along the street. I was tired of keeping up with it. I wouldn’t mind my yard being grown over with weeds and sloppy hedges leading to the perfect little house. Ha! Not perfect to me. A grown man that is afraid to go home. Tina was only going to yell and maybe throw a few things and cry.
I gripped the steering wheel and bounced my head off it a few times. I was just hanging out with the guys. I had to try and win some of my money back from the poker game. There would really be big trouble if I had come home late and broke. Ok, I’ll just go in, I thought. I put the car in drive and crept up the street.
I stopped in front of the house. I couldn’t go in. I shook the steering wheel and took some deep breaths. I lit my last cigarette. That could be a good thing, I thought to myself
“I just can’t do it,” talking to myself as I drove past the house. I noticed the kitchen light on, which meant she was awake. She wouldn’t leave the light on for me, though.
I drove up to the mini-mart and went in to buy a pack of cigarettes. Going into the store I noticed two other people. The first was a woman behind the counter on the phone, filing her bright red finger nails and chomping on gum. She had long red hair and was about 45 years old. She glanced at me and smiled. A young man in his late twenties was mixing up his coffee and looking at the donuts. I realized I was looking at him disgusted. I didn’t think he needed to eat any donuts. I noticed coffee on his shirt. He must have been drinking it right there at the coffee station.
I walked along the back wall and noticed all the choices of soda, beer and energy drinks. Why are there so many choices? I found this funny maybe at 3:00am everything’s funny. The choices are like life, only easier. I’ll have and energy drinks to speed up and go all day, then later I’ll get some beer to calm down. That seems like my life, it’s either go fast or go slow. As many times as I come in here I never noticed all the choices. None so life changing it would take care of a messed up marriage or a sickening job. I may be able to get Dale to settle the poker bet with a case of beer, but I don’t know what his choice would be. I walked through the isles looking at all the things in the store. I was browsing through the mini-mart, like I was Christmas shopping.
At the front of the store by the big window was a small round table with two chairs. The top of table looked like it had been scrubbed by brillo pads too many times. I couldn’t help but to move it, to see if it was as wobbly. It wasn’t but I noticed the folded card board under the leg. That always fixes a wobbly table.
“Can I get you something sir?” The red head behind the counter asked. Fran P. was on the name tag.
“Sir, can I help you?” She repeated.
“Oh I don’t know about helping me but I’ll take a pack of camels and matches.”
“I am sorry, we don’t have matches but you can get a lighter for sixty-nine cents.” She did look sorry for me.
“That will be fine, thank you.”
She scanned the cigarettes and the lighter and set them on the counter.
“That will be four- fifty six.”
My head was spinning and I needed to get some air.
“Uh, I’ll be right back” I said to Fran P.
I ran out of the store and sat on the curb out side. I have made my decision, and not a choice offered in the mini-mart. I am done living my life committed to all the hassles. I hate my job; I won’t go back to it, and I will not go home, ever. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am the crazy one. I am beginning to feel relieved and free. No wife and no job that will mean of all the problems in my life gone. I bet I could make a good living sitting right out side this mini-mart pan handling
The coffee guy was leaving the store and as he walked passed he looked at me the same way I looked at him, disgusted, like I was a lonely old slob sitting on a street corner. It hit me then, which maybe not to long ago that man was me.
“What are you looking at?” I asked with a sneer.
He just shook his head and kept walking. I hope for his sake he has a long way to walk. I think he needs the exercise.
I pulled off my tie and jacket. I forgot I even had them on. I checked the pockets of the jacket then balled it up and shoved it into the trashcan next to me. I don’t need it any more.
I go back into the store and now I am trying to decide what kind of beer I wanted. I walked to the back and got a six pack of Miller High Life. Yeah High Life, I thought. I walked back to the counter and Fran had the smokes and the lighter there waiting for me.
“Can I use the bathroom?” I asked Fran without looking at her.
I felt really foolish and sick to my stomach. I ran to the back and barley made it before I puked. I flushed the toilet, turned the water on and I looked in the mirror. “You do make me sick.” I said to my self. I splashed cool water on my face and dried with a paper towel.
Back at the counter Fran smiled at me “You look like you feel a little better.”
“Fran P., do you ever wonder what you would do with out a house, job or family?” Now let my mouth run over my brain.
“Sure, I would spend a lot of time in a mini-mart wondering what people would do.”

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