Super Stores in America – a short story

 

Walking into the super store, I get the feeling that everybody wants to snap my neck.

Everybody hates everybody in super stores.

My mom’s going to the pharmacy to pick up our anti-depressants, my grandma’s going to get groceries, I’m heading to the CDs.

I rob this place blind of CDs.

I’m walking passed the posters now, I’m giving them a quick look over. Nothing but a bunch of boy bands. It’s their fault that I can’t get a woman. I don’t look like a half chick like they do, so I’m fucked.

But I feel a little bit bad for them, the boy bands, they’re nothing but salesmen in tight pants that are pushing sex on preteens.

It’s sort of pathetic, in five years they’ll be remembered as  jokes.

One thing I do like about super stores is that there’s half naked woman everywhere.

I’m glad that summer’s coming soon. Summer heat waves and sweat is God’s gift to horny teenage boys.

I’m a horny teenage boy, and I blame the media. I told my counselor that television’s turned me into an idiot, and it did.

There’s a woman in the lotion and candle section with four children. Her daughter’s at her side, her little boy is in front, staring at his feet, bored, she’s got a new born in a car seat in the bottom of the cart and a three or four year old in the little seat near the bars.

She’s sniffing each candle with her eyes closed. She’s in sweat pants and a bleach stained t-shirt, her hair is wiry and put back in a bun. She looks stressed. She looks like she really needed to sniff those candles.

Oh, God, I think she caught me staring.

I actually have a staring problem. I start staring and thinking about people and I sort of forget that they can see me.

I’m in the CDs now. I have “Dark Side of the Moon” against my balls.

That sexy red head is behind the counter in electronics. Who else can look sexy in those lame gray work pants? I’ve been checking her out since I was eleven. This place would lose it’s  magic for me if she stopped working here.

I’m going through the clothing section now. I’m bored. I remember when I was a kid, when I got bored in super stores, I’d hide in the middle of the clothing racks so I could jump out at people when they looked through them. That never got old.

I wish I could still do that.

Super stores were fun when I was a kid. I remember when I use to be able to run through the aisles without being thrown out by management.

I remember this one time I got one of the bikes from the bike rack and I rode around the whole store, no one said a damn thing.

Now I’m fifteen and expected to behave.

We live in a cruel world.

We live in a world where everyone wants to snap your neck.

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Published by

jianbush

Modernist writer and poet.

One thought on “Super Stores in America – a short story”

  1. Ahhh, this made me laugh out loud – hiding in the clothing section to scare people – love it and it also made me look at how often I stare – too often!

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