The Shopper's Center (standard:other, 9932 words)
Author: Rick Pyzyna	Added: Jan 07 2008	Views/Reads: 2834/2016	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A behind the scenes look at your friendly neighborhood retail drug store

THE SHOPPER'S CENTER 

Freddie Takes Charge 

A shriek temporarily cuts through the Muzak.  Freddie finishes pricing
the fifths of Southern Comfort, then turns his head in search of the 
source.  It's a blowsy redhead, partially hidden by the Gallo Wine 
display.  The redhead's eyes meet Freddie's.  "A RAT!"  she screams at 
him. 

"A rat?"  Freddie says, wrinkling his nose and forehead in disbelief. 
"Are you sure it's a rat?  How 'bout a hamster?  A jerboa maybe?" 

"I don't .    .    .  " Red pauses.  "Wha' the hell's the difference? 
There's a rodent in the store." 

"Where?" 

"There."  The redhead points straight ahead while moving slowly
backwards. 

Freddie ambles over to the display.  Cautiously he peeks over the top. 
Red's right.  A small brown mouse is weaving down the aisle.  "Yep," 
Freddie nods at Red, 'there's a mouse." 

"Whacha gonna do about it?"  Red snaps. 

"Whatta ya want me to do?"  Freddie snaps back.  "Catch it with my bare
hands?" 

"If ya have to.  Just get rid of its.  I want two bottles of Wild Irish
Rose, and I ain't goin' another step 'til the rat's gone." 

Freddie laughs.  Red doesn't.  She's serious.  Freddie rubs his
forehead, perplexed.  Nothing in those Walgreen's training films to 
cover this situation.  No flutes in the toy aisle either. 

"Hurry will ya.  I can't wait all .   .   ." 

"I'll tell ya what."  Freddie cuts Red off.  He has elected to punt. 
"I'll get the assistant manager, and you can discuss the mouse with 
him."  Freddie dashes off to the office before Red can answer, saved 
again by the third of Walgreen's Ten Commandments of Employee Behavior 
(There are 13): REFER ALL COMPLAINTS TO THE STORE MANAGER PROMPTLY. 

The office is empty. 

"Where's Mr.  Fuchs?"  Freddie asks Linda the cashier. 

"On lunch." 

Freddie grimaces.  Mr.  Fuchs does not like his lunch disturbed.  Now
what? Freddie glances back over his shoulder.  Red's still there, hands 
on hips, solid as a rock, not about to disappear.   His ball again.  
Freddie reluctantly starts back toward Wild Irish Rose and her Trained 
Mouse ("Come one, come all.  See Montalban the reckless rodent risk 
life and limb as he sticks his head into Rosie's alcohol polluted 
mouth.").  Only then does Freddie notice the broom, stumbles over it 
actually.  An idea bulb lights up in Freddie's head.  A weapon!  
Freddie vaults the liquor counter.  "Now where is he?  he shouts at 
Red.  No need for an answer.  Freddie spots his prey.  The foolish 
mouse has trapped himself in a blind canyon, cases of Gallo Wine 
blocking his escape on three sides.  Freddie slams his broom down once, 
twice.  Direct hits.  The mouse is stunned.  By the sixth hit, blood is 
trickling from the mouse's ear.  By the tenth he's dead.      Freddie 
grabs a sack from behind the liquor counter.  He sweeps the mouse 
inside.  "I'll be right back," he tells Red.  Freddie hurries through 
the store, the paper bag at arm's length. 

In the lunch room he finds Mr.  Fuchs a third of the way into a deep
dish pepperoni pizza.  Freddie hands Mr.  Fuchs the bag.  "Here's 
something I came across in liquor."  Mr.  Fuchs reaches into the bag.  
Freddie hightails it back to liquor and the waiting Wild Irish Rose. 

She's not there. 


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