An Elsewhere to Be by DSDragon

Sparkword: Waiting.
Challenge: Describe the most boring job you've ever suffered through.

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Will he call? Should I call? Will he have called when I get home? Will I ever get out of here?

All these questions ran through my head as I rang up Mrs. Smythe's purchases one dreary Saturday afternoon. A 4-pair-pack of socks, a poet's blouse, some ugly, oversized capris with a flower print on them--it was all the same. Smile, greet, scan, beep, total, enter, "Your total is–," fold, bag, smile again, "Thank you, have a good day." Day in, and day out, that's all it was. It never stopped!

I would entertain myself by singing along to the songs that repetitively came over the intercom every day, or by thinking about Mike.

Sometimes, I'd be so bored, I'd even be able to pull off both at the same time.

My reverie was interrupted by a pale, bony-looking hand waving in front of my face.

"Darcy? Earth to Darcy..." I finally heard Tricia calling for my attention. I turned my boredom-glazed eyes to the dark-haired coed, a blank look on my face.

"Huh-whah?" I spoke 'intelligently.' Tricia merely rolled her eyes and gestured past the cash register toward the aisle, where another woman had appeared, ready to check out.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, finally getting it. "Sorry!"

Anywhere but here, I thought to myself as the cycle started over again and I went through the motions.

Or better yet... I corrected myself. Anywhere with Mike!

Maybe I should call when I get home...

Author's Note: Yes, that is REALLY how my job goes. There is no Mrs. Smythe, but there IS a Tricia, whom I work with. The only similarities to this Tricia and that Tricia is that they both have dark hair and pale skin, and they're both coeds.