Pink Girl

Taking a break from work, I decided to go on a snack run. I scanned my badge, waited for the bing, and proceeded. Wouldn’t Pavlov be proud? The walk consisted of a parking lot, a gate, a strip of sidewalk, and crossing a street.

There are actually two nearby gas stations. One is newer, which equates to better, except in the case of nachos. This is where the old store, "ghetto mart", as it’s fondly titled, trumps the "better" store.

I entered the new store; I was in no mood for nachos. I grabbed my Dew, and spent a few minutes deciding what snacky thing I wanted. I grabbed a pack of crackers and proceeded to check out. I waited while the lady in front of me bought a pack of gum.

My eyes wandered around the store, and then to the checkout girl. The first thing to catch my eye was her skirt. It was a red plaid, and reminded me of a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. I quickly ran my eyes up to her face, then slowly down the colorful star tattoos along her neckline. The colors were so vivid. My eyes were drawn down to her forearms where there were more tattoos. Finally, they rested on her right-hand knuckles, where a word was printed clearly. "PINK"

Not wanting to stare, I casually looked back to her face. She had short black hair, I wondered if it was dyed. I noticed her thin red eyebrows, and realized it must be. Her skin was fair and pale. She was a beautiful girl. Her black shirt clung tightly to her, accentuating her round, firm breasts.

She rang up my items. I notice on her left-hand knuckles there was another tattoo. "GIRL"