Fire her if you must!”
The man looked utterly baffled.
“I’m not a manager,” he said, holding up his receipt. “I’m just buying frozen waffles and almond milk.”
For a moment, Veronica froze. The flush on her cheeks deepened into a bright crimson.
“Oh,” she said stiffly.
A chorus of snickers followed her as she turned on her heel and stormed toward the exit, Alma trailing behind her with heavy bags in both hands.
After her boss exited the store, Alma paused a bit and turned to me.
Her lips parted slightly. No voice came out, just a soft motion: “Thank you.”
I didn’t hear about the scene that happened around the self-checkout area until later.
Carlos, the packer who often helped on Sundays, leaned in as he stacked some paper towels.
“You know Veronica thought that guy was the manager, right?” he said, smirking.
He filled me in about Veronica’s hilarious antics and her effort to get me fired!
I laughed until tears fell! “How do you know all this?!”
Carlos grinned.
“Alma told me. I understand her. Spanish is my first language.”
That made my smile grow even wider.
Carlos was the one who told me their names and more about Veronica. And now, he’d given me something even better, proof that sometimes, doing the right thing pays!
