Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner
Prologue
Shane's been working at his town's gas mart for just over a week now, and he really fucking hates it. For one, the small store is the only place to get milk and cereal for about thirty miles. Meaning: he sees everyone and their mom (literally) at least once a week. And they talk to him, especially the old woman named Janice.
She talks about her (both very attractive and single, she stresses) granddaughters coming to visit from Colorado. About Teresa (leader of knitting group at the church) and how she's such a slutty bitch who won't share her mother effing pattern books and drives three towns over to make sure she has the best yarn - skank. (Except in Janice's retelling she uses a lot more darns and dangs than she does skanks and sluts.)
There was Tracy, who Janice had once thought was just your average twenty year old, but then she reportedly got knocked up by this black dude. God forbid. Shane was so horrified that he yawned for like five seconds, but he likes to imagine he looked absolutely scandalized - like they weren't living in 2013 or anything.
On his sixth day on the job there was Carla, a nice lady in her forties, who had shoved a couple of Twix bars on the counter mumbling about this "old hag who always talks shit." Shane thinks she's the one Janice said got genital herpies from Jim, who was part of the volunteer fire squad. Gross.
Shane's favorite thus far had been about the new deputy in town and how all the gals Janice eats lunch with are ready to drop their panties for him, married or not. To his discomfort, she'd actually used those words. He didn't even think that was possible at their age, and was so going to Google that when he went home.
Which he regrets, by the way. Googling it.
Shane knew all of this within the span of nine days on the job, and all from an old woman named Janice who came in daily for her fudge bar.
He really wanted to shoot himself.
She talks about her (both very attractive and single, she stresses) granddaughters coming to visit from Colorado. About Teresa (leader of knitting group at the church) and how she's such a slutty bitch who won't share her mother effing pattern books and drives three towns over to make sure she has the best yarn - skank. (Except in Janice's retelling she uses a lot more darns and dangs than she does skanks and sluts.)
There was Tracy, who Janice had once thought was just your average twenty year old, but then she reportedly got knocked up by this black dude. God forbid. Shane was so horrified that he yawned for like five seconds, but he likes to imagine he looked absolutely scandalized - like they weren't living in 2013 or anything.
On his sixth day on the job there was Carla, a nice lady in her forties, who had shoved a couple of Twix bars on the counter mumbling about this "old hag who always talks shit." Shane thinks she's the one Janice said got genital herpies from Jim, who was part of the volunteer fire squad. Gross.
Shane's favorite thus far had been about the new deputy in town and how all the gals Janice eats lunch with are ready to drop their panties for him, married or not. To his discomfort, she'd actually used those words. He didn't even think that was possible at their age, and was so going to Google that when he went home.
Which he regrets, by the way. Googling it.
Shane knew all of this within the span of nine days on the job, and all from an old woman named Janice who came in daily for her fudge bar.
He really wanted to shoot himself.