Decimate the Stars

I stood on the stained carpet, and stared at the Employee's Only sign. My boss had called a 'meeting' with each individual employee, and half the time that meant ranting about how the store is doing shitty. Everyone already knew that. We were lucky if we got 10 customers through the day.
"Come in!" my boss shouted through the wooden door.
I pushed open the door, and the smell of must and mold came rushing at me. My boss, Rick, wasn't the type to keep things clean, especially in his 'office'. He spilt his morning cup of coffee almost everyday, and never bothered to clean it up. So, there were stains everywhere, and it seeped through into the underside of the carpet.
"Now Lane," Rick said. "Go ahead and take a seat."
I sat down in the car salesman, type, chairs. They made you incredibly uncomfortable, and rarely did Rick ask one of his employees to take a seat in one. Usually, it was a customer who wasn't happy with their purchase. Rarely did Rick let anyone return their vinyl.
Rick pulled open a drawer and pulled out an envelope with my name on it. "I really wish I didn't have to do this, but you know as well as I do that the store isn't doing too good."
I nodded.
"I'm sorry but I can't keep you on payroll. I have to let nearly half of my staff go, because I don't have the money to pay them. Lane, I'm so sorry," He apologized.
"Don't worry about it," I said, and stood up. "Good luck."
I opened the door, and accidentally hit a guy in a jean jacket, who looked like he was going to attempt to return a vinyl.
"Sorry," I said, and looked at the title in his hands.
"It's okay," He said, and flashed the title of the record, as if he could read my mind.
"Sex Pistols?" I raised an eyebrow.
He nodded. "I didn't realize I had this record," He explained.
"Don't waste your time here," I said. "He won't let anyone return vinyl these days. You might as well go down to one of the antique shops. You might not get the whole amount back, but you'll get rid of it."
He frowned. "Might as well give it to Mike or someone," he said looking down at the record.
"Either way, just don't come here," I said in a whisper. "They're ripping people off."
He smiled at me. "Good to know."
"Keep it in mind," I said tapping my temple.
He grinned. "I will."
"See you around," I said and made my way toward the door.
I had reached the rug laid out in front of the door, when the man caught up with me.
"Hey, wait," He said, and grabbed my arm.
I spun around to face him. "Huh?"
"Did you want to get a cup of coffee, or something?" He offered.
I smiled slightly. "Thanks, but I really need to get home."
He pulled out a small piece of paper, and jotted down his information.
"Will you give me a call if you ever want to?" He asked.
I looked down at his name. "Sure Billie."
He smiled. "Thank you..." He trailed off.
"Lane," I said with a smile.
"Thank you Lane," He repeated.
"Good luck with the vinyl," I said glancing down at the Sex Pistols.
He glanced down for himself, then looked up and smiled. "Thanks."
"I guess good luck with job hunting," He said with a devilish smile.
"Eavesdropper," I accused with a grin. "But thanks."
We both walked out the door, and then went our separate ways down the sidewalk. I hooked a right out the door, and headed for the bank. After the bank, it would be straight home. I didn't really want to go to an empty apartment, but what other choice did I have? My roommate left to go get married last month, and I hadn't heard from her since, and to be honest I didn't really give a flying fuck. I was going to kick her out anyway. She never did pay the rent. I was always forced to fork over her share.
All I had to worry about when I got home was my friend Wesley.