i used to be a convenience store clerk too (in fact, i used to complain that my life was a Kevin Smith movie), which is part of why i blogged the story about the clerk's murder. it was certainly one of the most interesting jobs i've had. graveyard shift, which usually left me with plenty of time to read, but with the occasional event to liven it up, like nearly being jumped for a carton of cigarettes. or having a can of beer thown into my chest. or twelve year old kids doing grab-and-runs with cases of beer (neighborhood kids that i saw frequently, and knew their parents. not terribly bright boys, i'd say). drunks passing out on the front sidewalk. hookers offering to "take care of me" in exchange for fountain sodas(!). inebriated women offering money if i'd take my shirt off for them (easy twenty dollars). inebriated men offering to "get with me" in the back room (i worked down the street from a club). a married man stalking me. and big scary guys with even scarier tattoos yelling at me about their jobs and/or girlfriend (i guess they just needed someone to talk to). *sigh* the memories...

i'd never do it again. retail sucks anyway, but to be a convenience store clerk sucks even harder.

everyone be nice to them. you never know when you'll be reading about them in the paper (not to make any clerks who may be reading this nervous).