Horrorstör

by Grady Hendrix

“Right, and then I’ll be on my way to management, which means I’ll be responsible for everything that happens in this store, I’ll be blamed every time something goes wrong, I’ll have to go to more meetings, I’ll have to work more hours, I’ll have to deal with everyone’s scheduling headaches, and I’ll be making a whopping seventy-five cents more per hour. I’m not taking the test.”

The problem was the liars. They said she could do anything she set her mind to, they told her she should shoot for the moon

because if she missed she’d be among the stars, they made movies tricking her into thinking she could achieve heroic things. All lies. Because she was born to answer phones in call centers, to carry bags to customers’ cars, to punch a clock, to measure her life in smoke breaks. To think otherwise was insane.

She staggered to her feet, his hand on her elbow, then put her arms around the cop and held on to him for dear life while huge wracking sobs tore themselves out of her body.

girl get up youre so embarrassing