Mr Manager

Enjoy this short story by Hellen Heels.

“Yes, of course. Why do you think I am willing to hear you out?”

“But don’t you think that you are over-reacting?”

“Over-reacting? Look, nothing you do or say is going to change anything. I must report your supermarket.”

He pointed at a sofa that was there. “Please sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”

She sat down and crossed her long legs. “I am only siting down to hear how good your argument is. But make no mistake about it, Mr. Manager, I am determined to put a stop to how all you supermarkets take delight in ripping off poor, helpless customers.”

“Look, I can understand how you feel. But we have never ripped off anyone before. Never.”

“How can I be sure? Maybe other customers were not as vigilant and as observant as I was.”

“And speaking of which, what are the items you are referring to?”

“Let me get them for you.”

She dipped her hand into the shopping bag and brought out several items which consisted of some soy milk, champagne, baked beans, a lingerie, a bra top, a pair of yellow leggings, and a white thong.

He looked at her. “All of this stuff is expired?”

“No, not all. Just the champagne, baked beans, and milk.”

He picked up the items she had identified and looked at their labels. He frowned when he saw their dates of expiration. “That is odd. This stuff has expired.”

“See? Can you see it? Do you now believe me?”

“Wait. Can you give me your receipt for these items?”

She rummaged through her bag. “Of course I can. It is a good thing that I had not yet destroyed it. I still had it with me.” She handed the receipt to him.

“I just want to confirm that you really bought these items from us,” he said as he went through it...

© 2022 Hellen Heels (Hljóðbók): 9781667053783

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Hljóðbók: 11 juni 2022