Inside the convenience store was bright. Bright lights, bright wrappers, aisles of candies and refridgerators filled with sodas and colored drinks with electrolytes and artificial flavors. There were tobacco products behind the counter, a woman paying for two canned coffees at the register.

“No shit?” the man ringing her up said. He looked at her while she pulled a few bills from her wallet. “Hey, I got a question. Why do they all smell?” 

“Huh?” she said.

“The BBLs, they all got this nasty smell.”

“Oh… I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t work with the clients. I just work at the front desk.” She grabbed her drinks and turned away. “Thanks.”

I took my turn at the register and threw a 100 GRAND on the counter, asked for a soft pack of Camel Lights. He pulled down the cigarettes and scanned them with my breakfast.

“That girl works for a plastic surgeon,” he said. “I never met anyone that worked for a plastic surgeon before.” He pressed a few buttons on the computer and rung up the total. “I asked her why they all smell so funky.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“The people that get plastic surgery, they get all this fake shit, big tits, a big fat ass, but then they smell weird. It’s fucked up.”

“That is fucked up,” I said. I tapped my card to the reader. It didn’t work so I inserted the chip.

He went on: “It’s God punishing them for fucking with their bodies. You ain’t supposed to mess with your body. Got all that fake shit in ‘em and it makes ‘em smell.” The green Accept button had a greasy smear over it. I pressed it anyways. “And the young guys, I think they want that, these big fake asses and shit.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It is fucked up. I need a real woman. She can be fat, whatever.” He paused, seeming to agree with himself, continued, “I was at a strip club with my buddies the first time I ever saw fake titties,” he said. “The stripper asked if I wanted to touch ‘em and I grabbed on and they were hard as hell. The fuck is that about? You want that softness, that mushiness.”

He gestured with his hands.

“Hell yeah,” I said (and meant it).

“Shit man, women give you a hard time about wanting to do something about your teeth, but I'd rather do something about my teeth than get some shit injected into my ass. It’s crazy.”

“Totally,” I said.

“And then they’re getting the shit removed! It's fucking them up, you know? I know a lady who has a permanent hole in her leg from that shit. She had to get her breast implants removed because they were fucking up her body. And Kim Kardashian got something taken out of her waist to make it look smaller. What the fuck is that all about? I don't get that shit man.”

“Me neither,” I said as I picked up the 100 GRAND and cigarettes from the counter. “You have a nice one man.”

He stood there and scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head from side to side.

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