I know it's a scary thing for you to leave the house some days. I know the light over my register is sufficiently evil in its' greenish hue and probably makes you quiver in your flip-flops. I know the idea of making contact with another human being is a nightmarish thing. I have nightmares about being here too, so believe me when I say I UNDERSTAND.
Also, I can sympathize if you're afraid of the neon pink. The neon pink, I firmly attest, should not under any circumstances be seen on any person's body unless that person exists in a photograph from less enlightened decades. I can't give you a good reason that my store has decided to sell Things That Are Neon Pink in terrifying variety and quantity. It's just the way things are in this ultra-modern world.
But come on. You've gotten this far without getting eaten by the fitting room attendant. The very fact that you have set down a small but impressive stack of modestly upper-arm-concealing solid tees at my register means that you have been in the store long enough to see that we're all more or less un-cannibalistic. As any of my associates could tell you, any employee found killing a customer will promptly be terminated. That should be enough assurance for your safety, I think.
Besides, there are lots of other nice customers in here who haven't been exsanguinated. Some of them are MUCH, MUCH fatter than you and therefore probably taste MUCH, MUCH better. You probably noticed that they're still alive. So I have to confess that I'm a little bewildered.
Why, when I ask you "how are you doing today?" do I get a teeny tiny glance and a miniscule shrug? And when I ask "did you find everything okay?" what would be so horrifying about answering? If you reply with "to be honest, I didn't" do you think I'm going to be hurt? offended? enraged? What makes you think I care?
No, actually, the only response that truly sticks out like a fucking sore thumb is the NON-response. Why can't you bring yourself to say one damned word to me? If you were clever, you'd be on your cell phone like half of the OTHER customers. But I'm starting to doubt that you learned how to speak when you were a kid.
You know, of course, that this does mean war. I can be terribly chatty when speaking to a person I perceive to be an idiot. Sooner or later, you're going to have to look at me. You're going to have to say SOMETHING. And when you do, that's when I'll say "My, what a fucking dumbshit you are! You should learn not to talk to strangers!"
At least, I imagine that's what you're expecting me to say. Grow some balls. I'm not that scary, am I?
