Just My Type

Chapter 3- She Had More Enemies Than Hitler

Chapter 3- She Had More Enemies Than Hitler

 

The weekend went by entirely too fast for my liking. It was already Sunday night and Grace had gone home and hour ago, leaving me all by myself. Now I was positively bored. There was nothing good on TV and no one was worth talking to was on Facebook.

I had tried to get into a good book, but my mind kept wondering elsewhere. After every page I would space out about random things on my brain and forgot what I was reading about in the first place. I read the same page three times. That’s when I got annoyed and decided to try reading again when I was more into it.

Around ten o’clock I painted my nails. At ten-thirty I updated my profile picture on Facebook to a self portrait I had taken with my phone. At Ten forty-five I called Farrah to talk about her date Friday and at eleven thirty I decided to make a quick run the twenty-four hour mini mart a few minutes from my house. I needed some ice cream. I was really craving some fudge mint. Being on a diet was not working out for me right now.

I live such an exciting life, don’t I? Well it did kind of feel exciting that I was defying curfew and rebelling against the parentals. But in my defense, my Mom went to bed with a migraine at nine o’clock and I thought it would be rude to wake her just to ask if I could leave.

My brother and sister were both in the bed and I was the only one awake, so nothing was keeping me home on this dark but very clear night.

It only took me five minutes to reach the convince store from my house. It was mostly deserted except for a couple of cars that were there. One was sitting at the gas pump while some woman, that looked like she just came off the night shift from the hospital, pumped gas into it. The other was parked in front of the entrance doors to the building.

I dug in the pockets of my New England Patriot pajama bottoms- my dad gave me them for Christmas one year all because I watched one game with him- and pulled out my money. I counted the money to make sure I brought enough and came up with fifteen dollars. If that doesn’t buy a tub of ice cream then someone is seriously ripping me off.

I killed the engine, climbed out of my blue Honda Accord, and started toward the store. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone around to notice my comfy nighttime attire or else I might feel pretty embarrassed right now.

Once inside, the scary looking, bored cashier eyed me as I walked across the store. I tried not letting it creep me out when his eyes followed around the store.

In the front cooler by the register they kept a small freezer section of individual servings of ice cream. I scanned over the varied selection until I came across what I was looking for and I lit up. They only had two tubs left and I gleefully took them both.

When I sat them on the counter the red headed guy with the tattoos stared at me with the same expression he wore since I walked in. I offered him a friendly smile, only because he looked slightly intimidating, and pulled my money out. He reached his muscular tattooed arm out and grabbed one of the ice cream containers and scanned it twice then placed them in a brown bag. His eyes never left mine once.

His constant stare, on top of him not speaking to me, kind of threw me off. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to act in front of him. He wasn’t exactly being all that friendly for a cashier. In fact, he looked more like the type of person to be hitting up a minimart instead of working in one.

I grimaced. Okay I just totally stereotyped him didn’t I?

Now I just felt bad. He could be a very nice, genuinely good person and I would never know. I have no right to judge him. In fact I’m going to be the first to speak to him.