Below I will post works of mine that I personally enjoy most. If you require any of my other works, then you can access most of them here. Enjoy!
A “Hypocritical” Oath (Or “Civil Disobedience as Defined by a Clerk”)
Wonderful, I thought as I parked my father’s vehicle next to the railroad tracks. Another day with which to waste countless hours for a meager six dollars and forty-five cents an hour.
As I exited the vehicle, I triple-checked my pockets for the necessities: my wallet, my ledger, a packet of gum, a pen (I have to have my pen), my cellular handset, and my portable media player (in case I should have to utilize its microphone to record my thoughts).
I began walking toward my place of employment: a twenty-four-hour mini-market, the employees of which work endlessly to maintain the store through mundane tasks that ultimately accomplish nothing. I walked past the broken air distributor, past the dented kerosene pump, past the worn sign that reads “O’Brien’s Twenty-Four Hour Mini-Market.” I also walked past the front window. Inside, a tall and muscular figure with wavy black hair that covers a face rendered by a pair of small glasses stood at the register. It was Fred, an employee who regularly works third shift at the mini-market.
To me, Fred was a god, or at least a demigod. I frequently worked second shift when I first started; at the end of the shift, I always looked forward to seeing Fred. When he entered, he somehow established a humbling grandeur, a jovial splendor reflected in his quiet personality, yet lost in his overwhelming size. Once I began working first shift more regularly, however, I soon realized that Fred was simply an employee at a mini-market, mild-mannered and tired, just like me.
After Fred cashed out his drawer and finished his paperwork, he purchased a few gallons of iced tea and exited the store, reminding me to turn the outside lights off before he left once and for all. Alone again, I sat on a stack of two crates, awaiting the regular customers who frequented the store for chewing tobacco, cigarettes, lottery tickets, and other assorted items of death and misery.
I used the time to reflect on what had happened during the past few days. I wonder if I performed well on my exam…Will my girlfriend talk to me after last night?
All of the sudden, a customer, one that I never saw before, approached the counter. To fulfill my requirements as a clerk and to maintain my own personal philosophy of civility to all, I greeted the customer cheerfully upon his arrival at the register.
“Hello, sir! How are you today?” In response, the customer threw a bag of potato chips on the counter and immediately demanded a boxed package of Marlboro Lights. Reluctantly, I entered the chips into the computer and scanned the cigarettes.
“Anything else?” I asked. The customer merely grunted and threw a crumpled bill at me. I quickly made his change and handed it to him.
“Have a good day, sir.” He then grabbed his purchases and quickly exited without uttering such words as “please” and “thank you,” words that he apparently deemed superfluous. Angry and slightly troubled, I sank onto the crates as civility simultaneously sank into a grave dug by humanity itself.
Soon thereafter, another employee entered the store. It was Valerie.
Valerie is a tall, slender girl, pleasing to the eyes and gentle in nature. Her attitude reflected the very civility which I strove to preserve. I related to her the story of what had just happened, venting my anger toward those who oppose the idea of acting politely to others. Valerie understood what I meant, but only silently agreed as I rattled off my list of grievances against humanity.
After I finished with my story, Valerie began to bake bread for the portion of the store that sells sandwiches and the like. I sat down on the crates once more, pondering my experience. A few moments passed and another customer entered. I smiled as I recognized him as one of our more pleasant customers. He and I both approached the terminal machine.
“Hi, there, bud!” said the customer cheerfully in a thick Irish accent. “Could I please have five dollars on tonight’s drawing and a box of Marlboro Lights?” A greeting. The word “please.” Perhaps civility was not dead.
After wishing me a good day, the customer exited the store. I felt happy again. Then my stomach sort of dropped. I am a hypocrite, I thought. I angrily addressed Valerie a moment ago about the immorality of acting uncivilly toward another person without reason. What reason did I have to act toward Valerie the way that I did? I quickly ran over to apologize to her. Her gentle nature made forgiveness easy. I repented for having broken my own commandment, one of God’s commandments in fact. Act unto others as thou wish others to act unto thou. I smiled to myself. Perhaps humanity should avoid hypocrisy before attempting to maintain civility. After all, you have to crawl before you can walk, I thought.
