Page 1 of Savage in the Sweets
Lacy
It isan indisputable fact that I love my shop and enjoy going to work each day.
But right now, as I stand across the counter from an especially prickly customer who’s eyeing the chocolate-covered pretzel rods, I’d much rather be handling the rod of Chris Hemsworth.
That’s the mentality a ten-month sex drought will give you, or maybe I’m just being a normal horny woman in her 20s.
Smile politely. Be patient. Soon, he’ll walk out a satisfied customer.
“I’ll take a dozen pretzels?” he says, then goes back to talking into the phone pressed between his cheek and his shoulder.
Without guidance, I pick the twelve I think look the best, but when I see an annoyed look on his face, I smile brightly and whisper, “Is there a special one you had in mind?”
He points emphatically to a rod on the left, then takes the phone away from his mouth. “Take out the pink and replace it with the one with blue sparkles.”
I comply with his demands, hoping that he realizes I didn’t want to interrupt his call and that I’m not a mind reader.
After I ring up his order, I force a pleasant expression on my face. “That will be twenty-two dollars.”
“Isn’t there some kind of bulk discount?” he blurts out quickly, then returns to his conversation.
I pull out a laminated menu that includes the prices, pointing to the line that shows that by getting twelve, he receives a two-dollar discount which I have already accounted for.
He shakes his head and swipes his card through the reader.
Grumpy men are the worst to wait on. Scratch that—leering men are. Grumpy men are a close second. The best are children, who always leave satisfied.
He ends the call, then looks up at me, finally giving me his attention.
“Ya know, these are a dollar each at Walmart.”
Okay, so maybe I was too hasty in my judgment. I’d much rather be leered at than told how much my goods are worth by a man who’s probably had no experience in confectionaries.
Get your shit together. He’ll be out in the blink of an eye.
“While I do realize that, these are handmade with real chocolate, which is why I must charge more.”
Things I fail to mention are rent, labor laws other stores fail to adhere to, and the growing cost of owning a small business.
Without a farewell, he grabs the bag from the counter and heads out the door.
Good riddance.
My phone vibrates, and I pull it out to see a text from Stephanie, my sister, but it’s not her that’s messaging me. It’s my adorable niece, April.
April:It’s me, April! Can you fit another princess on the cake?
Even though no one is around, I still bring my hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. There are already eight princesses on her birthday cake. What’s one more?
Lacy:Sure, which one?
An image comes through of a woman with black hair in a corset.Who the hell am I looking at?
April:Thank you, Aunt Lacy!
Lacy:Who is that?
April:Xena: Warrior Princess.
