by bofa xesjum
part
thirty-five of forty
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the name of the colonel sanders afternoon girl was barrie and she did not consider herself to be particularly unfriendly.
she just did not much care to make pointless conversation with old men like john prester or pete poole.
after john and pete had both left, barrie returned to her thoughts, which they had so rudely interrupted.
murderous thoughts of samantha sinclair, the richest and most popular - and supposedly the prettiest - girl in town.
if poor barrie had belonged to her grandmother's generation, she might have had dreams of escape.
but, unfortunately for her, she was stuck in the modern world, with nowhere to go.
she could work at colonel sanders in minneapolis, or paris france or abu dhabi.
where she could watch the exact same videos on tik tok or youtube.
maybe you are one of those people who do not even care.
because you see this is what the world has come to.
i apologize for the unnecessary digression, it won't happen again.
i just get carried away sometimes, it's my way.
anyway, barrie was left alone with her thoughts.
some people might not call them thoughts.
but what do they know, huh?
another customer finally came in.
he looked at barrie.
opened his mouth.
closed it.
hesitated.
next
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