Welcome to Modish Wear (Chapter 4)

7 A.M.

An alarm on a sleek cellphone began to play melodious music, and a disheveled young man began wrestling with the blankets. He knocked the phone off his nightstand, "I wasn't dreaming. Yesterday really happened."

As much as Nick would tell himself he didn't like his job, he would still miss most people he worked with. He reminisced about when he started working at Modish Wear. Nick started working on the shipment team, and he noticed everyone only talked about movies and called each other nicknames. Originally for his thin, lanky body, Nick was known as "Nick the Stick." But one morning, the shipment team manager nastily chewed the workers out for slow completion times. His name was Joshua Moore, and he was not well-liked by any of the employees. Nick didn't like how Joshua was talking down to them, and when he started walking away, Nick threw a brick at him. It graced past his head and wasn't meant to hit him but to warn him that they would not be disrespected. Hence his newfound nickname, "Nick the Brick." One question that forever remained unanswered was, "Where on earth did Nick find a brick in a retail store?"

No one at this store would know Nick the Brick, but a transfer employee was banished from his old store. What were the rumors going to be? Would they even matter?

Southwood was the epitome of mediocracy in the district. The district manager, Thomas Walsh, would typically talk to the bottom four stores about their performances and what they could do better. It's rumored that he stopped calling Modish Wear Southwood months ago. It was also rumored that when Southwood finished in 11th one week, Thomas almost fired the other store's manager for performing worse.

Nick fumbled his phone in his hands, "7:50 A.M. Shit, I have to be there in ten minutes."

He grabbed a set of clothes and charged into the bathroom like a defensive lineman. Nick brushed his teeth so vigorously that his gums started to bleed. Or Nick had unhealthy gums. He wouldn't know; he hadn't been to the dentist in three years. Nick squeezed a white bottle, and styling gel oozed onto his fingers. He slid his fingers through his hair and stopped to pull on it gently. Nick fantasized about a time when his ex would tug his hair if he was being a "bad boy." He started to feel excited. "Pathetic," he thought to himself.

Moisturizer on. Keys in pocket. Stylish outfit. Nick Malone was ready to dazzle a new audience.

***

The drive was going smoothly, considering the amount of ice and snow on the road. Drivers weren't moving five miles per hour, but many cars were still traveling to their places of occupancy like Nick.

The good news about working at this location was that Nick didn't have to get on the highway, and it took half the time to get to Southwood compared to Wallbrook. At the designated speed limit and average amount of traffic, it took ten minutes. Fortunately for him, Nick drove over the speed limit but didn't drive fast to get to work on time. It was necessary that he picked up a mocha frappe from Mocha Mart.

Nick spun into the drive-thru, nearly taking out a green and black trashcan. Luckily, no one was in the drive-thru, probably because they were at work like he should be.

The speaker crackled before a mousey voice spoke on the other side, "Welcome to Mocha Mart. How can I help you today?"

"Hi, can I get a mocha frappe, please?"

"What was that?"

"A MOCHA FRAPPE PLEASE!"

"Sir, you don't have to yell. One mocha frappe. What size?"

"Medium."

"Small?"

Nick wanted to drive away, but the caffeine was calling his name, "Medium."

She paused for a moment, "What?"

"MEDIUM!"

"One medium, and sir, you don't have to yell, I can hear you just fine."

"Can you?" Nick's heart beat loudly.

The mousey-voiced girl ignored his comment, "So one mocha frappe. Did you want whipped cream?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, one medium mocha frappe with whipped cream. Anything else?"

"No, no whipped cream."

"Wait, no, NO whipped cream, as in yes to whip cream?"

"Fuck you, I'm going to Crogers."

Nick drove off and ran into the trash can.

"I hope that didn't fuck up my car."