Tales From ZombieLand (cont'd)

Chapter 1

I am The RobScenity, and I wage-slave at a once major retail store in a seemingly sleepy retirement town. I'm Frontline, Hardlines-on the floor and smack in the middle of every shit-storm that hits: from Seniors Day to Midnight Madness (the only madness being the fact that we stay open till midnight, in a town that's in bed by 8:00). My fellow floor people and I are under constant attack - Tag switchers, Seniors armed with an infinite supply of aisle clearing gas-bombs, and 'New Canadians', whos understanding of English is next to zip (until you say the word 'discount'). Don't get me wrong, I love the action, the excitement, the overwhelming satisfaction I get when their smug little faces drop upon learning they can't squeeze a 50cent discount out of me. Or when their mewling, screaming, fake-crying spawn smack face first full speed into a cart. I think those must count amongst my favorites: those wretched little poster children for late term abortion, sounding as if they're in agony, while their faces remain unemotional, Children of the Corn blank. Then that one delicious moment when they glance away, turning back just in time to smash beak-first into mommy's shopping cart. Glorious! But I seriously digress, and will do my best to get back on track...

to be continued...

As always, Be safe.

TRS