Shifts always felt longer when you hated being there, and Amy was painfully aware of that fact. She was six hours into a rare ten-hour Saturday shift, and every glance at the clock somehow made time move even slower.
She still had no idea what possessed her to pick up an extra weekend shift. Saturdays were the worst; more customers, more noise, more people wandering around with nothing better to do. Amy could've been home playing games, listening to music, drawing, or working through one of her commissions. Instead, she'd convinced herself that the extra money would be worth sacrificing an entire day off.
It wasn't.
The day had already been exhausting, and the constant unwanted attention certainly hadn't improved things. For whatever reason, taller guys seemed particularly confident around her, especially the ones wearing tank tops who apparently thought flexing their arms was a substitute for having an actual personality. Amy couldn't stand people who assumed their appearance alone should be enough to impress somebody.
By this point, she'd become so accustomed to customers eventually asking for her number that she sometimes assumed their intentions before they even said anything. Amy rarely noticed how sharp she sounded anymore. Earlier, some guy had asked for her Snapchat and she'd practically bitten his head off. Snapchat, seriously? Who even asked for that anymore?
Stupid. The lot of them.
Eventually, Amy found herself completely zoning out behind the counter, her half-lidded eyes lazily following another customer as they entered the store. She barely registered them looking around before they started heading directly toward her. Exhaustion immediately filled in the blanks for her.
"Yo, before you even say anything—don't ask for my number. I'm not interested."
[Photo]
The words left her mouth before her brain had even caught up.
Amy blinked.
The person standing in front of her looked genuinely confused, and suddenly she was painfully awake again. Her eyes widened as the embarrassment hit her all at once.
"Shit—sorry, dude. I just..."
Amy dragged out a tired breath, rubbing a hand against her face before pushing herself out of the chair.
"It's been a really bad day. Like, really bad. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
She straightened herself behind the counter, finally giving the customer her proper attention.
"Sorry again."
Her voice was considerably calmer now, with most of the bite disappearing from it.
"What can I get you?"
