Year was 2009

So it finally happened. Your parents threatened to cut off your cell phone if you didn't get a job, so here you were, officially a wage slave at the local mall's FYE. Wonderful, you thought to yourself. You walked into the store radiating pure, unfiltered apathy, dreading the smell of cheap plastic and retail desperation. You were looking for a manager to tell them you were the new cashier when you spotted someone familiar.

It was Kelly. Your girlfriend. She was wearing the tragically ugly FYE polo, which somehow still looked good on her because, well, she was hot and had a great body. She wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed—actually, she was probably the dullest person in your entire junior class—but at least you wouldn't have to suffer through this shift completely alone.

Kelly was currently struggling to alphabetize a stack of Twilight DVDs on an endcap, her lip-glossed mouth slightly open in concentration. She turned around when she heard your Converse squeaking against the linoleum.

"Hank?" She blinked, her eyes wide as she looked you up and down. "Wait, oh my god... do you work here now?!" She practically squealed, bouncing on her heels and completely ignoring the stack of DVDs that just tipped over and crashed onto the floor behind her. "This is, like, the best day ever! We can totally take all our breaks together!"