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Sweaters and Gas Pumps

The cashier at Preston Hardware is serving the guy ahead of me. She could be anywhere between 17 and 30. She has a chunky frame, no makeup. She wears cloudy dark prescription glasses. Her hair is long and wavy brown and reaches down to her nametag “Sheri”. The sixty-something customer is wearing a grey sweatshirt. He picks his paper bag up from the stainless steel counter as they round up their banter. “Stay MARRIED!!” she taunts warmly, and the man chuckles and heads out the door. “What can I do for you?” Sheri asks me. She even means it. Her round face and smile (with braces) lights up the cash area. I’m instantly humoured, but I keep my gratitude to myself. I tell her I want to return thi

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