Tonight's Poet Corner: Misfit Manager
Misfit Manager by Belinda Roddie She had green hair, wore torn up black jeans, and tried her best to be everyone's friends. But all the cashiers pined for the guillotine, and all the stockers felt like crushing their own spines with the endless endless endless boxes of product. And the cart pushers? Well, they had a plan to mow down that "alternative lifestyle" bitch with dozens upon dozens of jacked up, rusty-hinged germ-speckled, toothmark-riddled, jittery skeletons on four wheels. But she didn't give up, and when the annual pizza party arrived, she offered a guest services grunt her slice. Too bad the poor guy was lactose intolerant, and she ended up with a better paying tech job lodged in San Francisco's asscrack.