And I've piled the laundry on the bed and head down to 7/11. I need a slurpee, some cigarettes, maybe (although I'm not consciously thinking it, if I did I wouldn't go) a bite to eat.
And there's Big Talker, working behind the counter, he's got his "I'm a Trainee" badge on and I'm surprised to see him there, but only for a moment, it makes sense, probably his son got tired of paying the rent and made him get a job and I notice, only for a moment, a slight glimmer of schadenfreude; how the mighty are laid low, but there's some conscious wrestling as I'm paying, he's messing up big time, can't ring in my cigarettes, food properly, he's given me the incorrect change and I begin to feel wretched - ashamed that in any way I should take pleasure in another's misfortune, ashamed because in a couple of short months that could be, may well be, probably will be me, ashamed because while I've overheard all the talk of the big deals going down, (rather sceptically), he's done nothing to hurt or offend me, and I just want to hurry and pay and get out of there...