Day One Hundred And Thirty-Nine
-I came across evidence that someone tried to steal a fidget spinner, but stopped halfway and abandoned the crime. Assuming that they did not pass on from spin withdrawals, I am proud of them for working to kick their cramp-inducing addiction.
-A boy asked if he had to pay if he left the store without purchasing anything. His mother told him no, but I knew to keep my mouth shut. We find that we get the best results if our Hostage Protocol is kept a secret until discovered firsthand.
-A woman with heavy eye shadow, green feathered hair, and an AC/DC shirt came through with two kids, each her equal in style choices, confirming what I have long suspected. Punk is not dead. It has just been on maternity leave.
-Tonight, I scanned my first Halloween item of the year. It may only be mid-August, but I can already feel my seasonal powers growing.
-A young boy asked his mother for a movie, only to be promptly denied. He tried again, adding in a “please”, just to be once more shut down. He decided to make one last attempt, no holds bared, throwing out the big gun that we negotiation veterans refer to as the Super Please. He was told no again, but it cannot be said that his efforts went unrecognized.
-I was asked by a college student if there was a return policy on the school supplies for when she dropped out. The relief in her eyes when I let her know she had ninety days proved how deadly serious she was, earning her all of the respect I have in me to give.
-As a boy purchased a Nerf gun as tall as himself, he gave me some insight into his life. “With this gun, all you’ll be doing is this,” followed by a series of obscene hand gestures surprising to see performed in front of one’s grandparents.