No Rain, No Gain

'Is this a joke, Dylan? Because I don't get it.'

 Tommy and Steve where huddled around me, Tommy's bushy ginger eyebrows were planted firmly just above his eyes and Steve looked as if a Black Sabbath reunion tour had just been cancelled.

'No, it's no joke. Today is my last day.' I said slowly.
'He's lying.' Steve hissed. 'Like when you said you saw that couple having sex in a car.'
'It happened!' Tommy protested. 'Right outside PC World! I would have filmed it if I had my phone on me!'
'Dylan, why should be believe you?'
'Well, you don't have to.' I shrugged. 'I'm at the museum now.'
'Museum?' They both stared at me.
'Yeah, I mention it every shift, lads. You don't the a blind bit of bloody notice, do you?'
'No, I know.' Steve nodded. 'The museum, of course...'

I stared him down.

'Do we have a museum around here?' Steve asked, gazing at Tommy.

I didn't blame him really. I did mention the museum but it wasn't all the time. Plus I've not been there for a while so I didn't expect anyone to ask. Today was my last shift as a trolley pusher. Five years coming to an abrupt end thanks to a small sense of panic in Sharon's office. It hadn't yet hit me properly, but sooner or later I'd have to deal with the fact that I had no job. Not even a part-time, extra-cash-in-hand odd job kind of job. Just no job. My cousin has three jobs and still manages to go to college. Surely he could give one of those to me. Some people are just greedy. Still, as least my co-workers will miss me.

'We'll have to start looking for your replacement.' Steve smiled.
'Yeah, let's get a bird.' Tommy grinned.
'Yeah, or a gamer.'

 Well, I can see the advert now: XBOX BIRD WANTED

I met up with Allison for my last dinner with her. It was quite a strange feeling, to be honest. This girl had single-handedly ended my career at the supermarket, leaving me a desperate, pennyless former student. Yet when we sat down together in the canteen I was pleased to see her.

Oh shit. Is this love? I love her? Suddenly I felt like Hugh Grant in one of his films. A bumbling idiot.

'So...last day!' She giggled.

I don't know what she was so excited about. I'm not going to see her much anymore. Hang on, maybe shge wants rid of me...Yeah, she was the one who wrote and handed in my resignation. Maybe this is all a massive plan to get rid of me. I wouldn't be surprised if it was all being filmed for Channel 4, one of those documentaries where they poke and prod people until the cry or lunge out at someone. I felt myself getting angry. Oh God, the moment I realise I might be in the love with someone and I want to kill them at the same time. Fucking brilliant.

'I know. The lads are gutted.'
'Steve said he's already suggested three replacements to Sharon.'
'All girls names?' I asked.
'Yeah.'
'Thought so.'

I needed to change to subject.

'Excited about the wedding?'
'Yeah, should be a great day.'
'We're all meeting up at Fran's Dad's pub beforehand. For a bit of a drink.' I said, piercing a chip with my fork.
'Cool, what are we getting them for a gift?'
'Alex just said they want the cash...so, a fiver?'
'Dylan!'
'Well...' I shrugged and smiled.
'Give him a fiver and ask for change!'

I might hate her, but God she could make me laugh.

I had twenty minutes left when Steve ushered me over to his car. He was leaning over the bonnet, writing furiously on his photocopied rota sheet.

'Dylan, can you stay an extra hour today? Tommy has to go home. Too many Lucozade’s I think.’

‘Not again.’

‘I know. I knew that eight one wouldn't go down well. He’ll be shitting for weeks.’

What a lovely thought.

‘So, can you?’ Steve asked, raising his eyebrows at me. 'One hour?’

I shrugged and accepted. I might as well take all the overtime I can get, no matter how short.

‘Cool, well. I’m off.’

‘What? You've got an hour left too!’
‘Well, it’s dead out here, mate.’ He said, putting his coat on. ‘Plus, you’re here now.’

Five years of working with an idiot and now the idiot fools me. Well played. Ten minutes later I was on my own, pushing damp, rusting trolleys through the sideways rain. My hood was screwed tightly around my face, making me look like Kenny from South Park.  The walkie talkie bussed and hissed to life, a girls voice asking me to come and help a colleague at the tills. Inside? My pleasure.

I squelched my way down the back of the checkouts, a line of bleeps and beeps coming from the tills as I made my way to the end. The way the girl on the walkie talkie described it, it seemed as if I was needed to help an old lady, maybe with a shopping cart or a wheelchair. But instead of finding a wrinkly old woman with fat ankles and angina I was met by quite a tall woman in her late fifties. Her scent struck me first, that sweet, sickly smell of talcum powder and expensive perfume. Her dark leatherly skin made her looked aged, with a long furry coat that covered her knees. At first I thought she needed help with her trolley, most people often do. With all the cat food and crates of beer families buy. But all she had was a small trolley's worth of groceries.

‘Someone called for me?’ I chirped.

The was no reply, just a suble point in the trolley's direction that came from the woman. A split second later she was gone, clicking her way out of the store with shiny shoes. OK, she needed help…maybe she was deaf…or blind…she was wearing dark sunglasses. Or even dumb? Deaf, blind and dumb? Do people have that nowadays? I followed her as quick as my soggy boots could carry me, dodging my way past wet floor signs and toddlers holding toys. I got to foyer in time to wipe my boots on the bit of carpet but she took the lead again, bounding out into the rain ahead of me.

 In the car park she caused a scene, slicing though the traffic without a single glance of motion of apology. It was left to me, rushing behind her with soggy boots and a trolley full of groceries, holding my hand up to the angry man in the astra who had to slam on the breaks for her. He wasn’t happy. Neither was his pregnant wife in the passenger seat. I rushed down the row of cars where I saw her last but I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t really see anything. I had been moving so fast my coat hood had nearly swallowed my whole face and the rain was beginning to cause hazeyness in the air.

I searched the cars for a sign of the woman. What car would she drive? Knowing her she’d probably have a driver or some sort of taxi. I know she was deaf, blind and dumb but fucking hell she could run fast! A few cars down I noticed quite a large silver one. I wouldn’t ordinarily notice it but this one has it’s boot wide open. I looked around for an owner but everyone around was either in the store of huddled in trolley bays. I circled the car, from left to right, slowly noticing someone sat in the front seat. Did they know they had their boot open? It’s a bit stupid in this weather. I recognised the coat…a long furry coat. It was her. She wasn’t deaf, blind or dumb. She was rude. Really, really rude. She’d ushered me in to push her trolley and escaped to her overpriced car for shelter. Not a word. Again, just a point in the vague direction of the boot. Rude. Really fucking rude. I was angry. And if my hood wasn’t covering most of my face and you were there that day, you’d have seem me angry. Because that’s what I was. Oh, if this was my last day I would…Hang on…this is my last day.

I looked at her, gradually panicing at the thought of wet apples and cheese. I slowly emptied the content of each plastic bag, taking out pints of milk and curry packs one at a time. I gazed into her eyes. She had no choice but to look at mine. It was the only thing she could see that wasn’t clothing. I turned slowly and pushed the trolley with one swift motion, releasing the caged groceries into the wild that was the sloped car park. All those years of pushing trolleys up that slope. All the tension erased by one quick push. You should have seen her face.

That was my last day working as a trolley pusher. The woman complained to Sharon, unable to describe the trolley pusher as he had a partially covered face. All Sharon had to do was to look at that days rota and the who was on at the time. Steve.