#4: The New Job

"Now, one of the advantages of Save-More, is the seafood," she says, looking out at the six of us.

"How fresh can it be?" The goth girl asks. She's like the cutest goth-girl I've ever seen; there are like fifteen piercing holes that stand empty due to Save-More regulations. "I mean, we're like seven thousand miles from the ocean, right?"

"The seafood is the freshest in the county," the lady says. She's somewhat flustered by this lack of faith. "Why, look at our lobsters."

We gather around the lobster tank. They're all climbing on each other and shit, their pinchers are all rubber-banded. They aren't angry or confused looking or anything special at all. They just climb and don't pinch all day, from what I can see. But damn, it's mesmerizing.

"Some people say," the lady almost whispers in our ears, leaning down behind us, "that the lobster tank is haunted."

"Every employee here has a story. You will, too."

"You're lying," Gothgirl says. "You saw that we were bored out of our minds and you think this tidbit of information is somehow going to get us back to being all excited about you."

"I think you're right," I say at last. "They're not haunted. They're regular."

"Well, Mr. Know-it-all," the woman says. "You just got yourself lobster tank cleaning duty tonight."

Gothgirl laughs at me. They all sort of chuckle. Whatever.

Humiliated, I can't bring myself to tell Gothgirl my haunted lobster tank story the next day.


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