Your gaze follows the hand on the clock, counting down the minutes until your shift ends. A sudden smack of something being placed down on the counter causes you to jump “Hey…work here can’t be that boring, surely.” the man talks with a stupidly charming smile present. “Yeah, sorry- just tired” a pathetic attempt at a lie, not wanting to seem that unhappy with your life. Embarrassing. “Don’t sweat it, I understand.” He talks again, the gun in the waistband of his jeans pressing against his back.