That afternoon, Florina—born Floyd—worked with me to serve customers since the line was long. She was the assistant manager of my department and a total hard ass. I loved that about her, because she took s**t from no one and spoke up on my behalf more often than not, though I didn’t need her to. I had a snappy comeback for everything.
“What are you doing tonight, hon?” she asked while efficiently handling a Western Union request.
“Not much,” I replied as I checked the lottery tickets for a customer. The man won five bucks and I handed over his winnings. “I have to be here early tomorrow since Nigel’s sick.”
“Again? Either he’s slumming or he really needs to see a doctor,” Florina replied as she handed the money and receipt to the impatient-looking older gentleman at the counter. “Thank
