"Twenty-nine forty-nine, Miss." The short girl looks up from the cash register and peers, morbidly, into my face.
I retrieve my Wachovia check card from my little hand-purse and hand it over to her, checking to make sure that it's still in one piece and not in any way damaged.
She pries it out of my hand and swipes once. I look away and hold my breath...
I hear the light whirring of a machine as a strip of paper starts shooting out of it. She rips it away from the machine, grabs a pen and hands me the two.
"Sign here, please."
I grab anxiously at the two and does what she says, smiling satisfactorily, eager, triumphant.
Employment is GREAT. And next Monday morning when I'm pushign myself out of bed at the crack of dawn, I will tell you the same thing - employment is GREAT!
I walk out of Dunkin Donuts with my new-found sense of pride and my friend, Joyce, in tow. She has her bag of chocolate donuts clenched tightly in her hand.
"You sure you don't wany any? You bought it..."
"Nah." The hand holding the bag of her donuts is white from squeezing so tight. "My treat."
Employment is GREAT!
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