Liquor Store Diary: White Whale

Last night I met one of the worst people alive.

Her face was battered with acne scars and craters.Framing her head was hair fried, bleached and teased into a stringy mess. Her figure bubbled into lumps which were quite visible beneath her see through halter top. Her skin was pale and dry. The ugliness was not just a physical feature, it seethed and churned from her personality too.

She stumbled up to the counter and tried to climb up on it. I was about to tell her not to sit on the counter when she slid off. I couldn't help but smile as the tragedy jumped up and bounced back off multiple times until she gave up.

"D-do you have a paaaaaaper clip?"
"Nope."
"Nah-aaaaaah you do."

I ignored her, hoping she would just go away. She stood there, surveying her surroundings in a motion that closely resembled a bobble head doll shaking in a bumpy car ride. I slid a rubber band across the counter, hoping the beast would be satiated. She rigged her shirt to her jeans with it. As she shuffled out of the door, a wake of booze and perfume wafted through air.

2:55 AM rolled around and I was ready to lock up. That wretched creature entered the store and walked to the champagne section. She sat down on a shelf and mumbled to her cellphone.

"You need to clear out, the store is closing. No liquor sales after 3."
"My phone is broken, sheesh. Leave me alone. You don't understand my phone stopped working."
"Get out now."

I gripped a blue Bic pen like a harpoon and raised it in the air.

"From hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."

The harpoon crashed down into her flesh. The stricken whale flew forward. She disappeared beneath the ocean, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.