With a beehive head of hair, full of hatred, she walked to her car with a six pack of the latest and greatest cheap alcohol delivery beverage after the small-town jock wannabe had been wooing her inside the local Circle K.  She had enjoyed the attention, him wooing her, the clerk obviously taking it all in, it had been years since she had any sort of attention other than the bill collectors and the occasional Jehovah’s Witnesses. 

But the wooing and attention came to a crashing halt as soon as a much younger, more attractive female caught his attention as she strolled into this collection of cheap beer, bags of carbs, and wrappers full of sugar. The overnight clerk enjoyed it all as an overdue distraction from her dead-end life stuck in this dead-end job.  

She had been watching the jock wannabe use his words like an India snake charmer on the Beehive Queen.  The clerk was enjoying this show unfolding before her; she never knew what characters would find their way into this strange place to provide her with entertainment in this overnight environment full of all that was wrong with capitalism. 

He tried his snake charming skills on this younger female who bought his attention by simply being a new face walking through the door in this small town.  He still had the charm, but his body had lost any hope of the life of a jock, now showing pudges here and there.

The Beehive Queen was his equal, both still trying to hold onto what they had lost long ago from a life hard lived.  He tried to portray the image of the jock he once was, long ago, when this small coastal town was an industrial hubbub of activity.  A time when the locals walked to their jobs in the mighty mill, unlike now, when the lucky ones drive an hour or more for a decent job.  

The Beehive Queen will return to her lonely home, a condominium where she is surrounded by older folks who reminisce about a different time.  She’ll watch a rerun sitcom as she dreams of a better life, a life she no longer believes possible, as she accepts where life has taken her. 

The Jock Wannabe, in his blue gym suit with the white stripes down the sides, with a cheap logo meant to look expensive, will return to his apartment to play basketball on an old gaming console that allows him to escape to his glory days in high school, where he was the King of the court. For that was the best his life would ever be. 

Meanwhile, Samantha, the overnight check, will return to her checklist of tasks to be completed during her shift while she awaits the next set of characters. Unlike the Beehive Queen, Samantha still has hope for a better life. 

I hope you enjoyed this short story. I got the inspiration for the story during a coffee stop on a late-night drive a few years ago. Both the Beehive Queen and the Jock Wannabe were there, as well as a few other characters. That night, when I saw my two main characters, I knew a story was in the making. There will be more stories coming from this collection.

J