Walking home, I remembered being in a decent mood before I
entered the store and now I felt pissed off. I’m in that damn Walgreens
at least three times a week spending plenty of money. Why the hell
would a cashier try to squeeze a little bit more out of me? And what
business is it of hers if I want to drink Diet Coke? If I wanted to
drink a gallon of Tide detergent, that’s my business and not hers.
I looked at my watch. It was a quarter
after 6. I figured with it being early evening, Walgreens, up on Madison
Avenue here in Covington, wouldn’t be that busy. I’d walk up there and
get me another bottle.