After a little bit of searching, I finally find the elusive Fish-E-Mart in all of its 24-hour glory. The store's sign was out and instead of proclaiming "Fish-E-Mart", the sign only read "SH ART". Honestly, that just about sums up my job hunt thus far.

I pull open the front door and hear a little "ding-ding" go off as I enter the store. I look around the place and to be honest it doesn't look that much more different than your standard run-of-the-mill 7/11. I wonder if this joint sells Coke Slushies, the superior Slushie flavor. 

As I ponder the potential benefits and dangers of being put in charge of a Slushie machine, a girl with bright blue hair gets up from behind the cash register and lazily rubs her eyes. Were they... napping on the floor? 

"Hey, welcome to Fish-E-Mart. What do ya want?", she says, propping herself up on the counter and rubbing her back. She blinks sleepily at me.

"Uhh... I'm looking for Morgan," I reply, cocking one eyebrow up at this girl.

"I'm Morgan. Do you have a Fish-E-Mart card, ma'am?", she says, not even looking at me now.

"Ma'am? I mean, no. No, I'm not buying anything-"

"Have a nice day, then", and she begins to lie back down on the tiled floor.

I run up to the counter and peer over. She has a whole fucking pillow fort back there. What the-

"No! Hey, listen! I'm here for a job. Mimi said you were looking for some help", I yell over the counter at Morgan, who was beginning to assume the fetal position.

She pauses and looks up at me. 

"Mimi? Oh yeah! You must be her little friend from Arkansas or whatever. How you likin' it here so far?", she says, getting back up from her minimum wage nap. 

"Arkan-? I'm from Manhattan. You know, like, New York?"

"That's what I said. Anyways, you start tomorrow. Wear comfortable shoes and tell Mimi I said hi. Have a great-", she begins to lower herself back onto her pillow fort. I launch myself over and grab her wrist.

"Oh no you don't! You haven't even said anything about hours or wages or rules and regulations! What's the dress code? What's your stance on polyester-cotton blends? What about-?", I putter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We'll talk about all of that stuff tomorrow. Consider it your orientation day. Be here by 8:30, champ."

"Eight-thirty? A.M?"

"No, P.M. I wanna talk about fabric choices and toilet maintenance at night. Yeah, A.M.", Morgan retorts, rolling her blue eyes at me. 

I can already tell how this summer is going to play out. 

"Alright, fair. By the way, my name's Honey. Honey Vega."

"Honey? That a nickname or something?", she says, crossing her hands and shifting her balance to one leg. She had a hint of a smile for a brief moment before it was replaced by her dull, permafrown.

"Uh, no. That's my real name."

"Right. Well, Honey it's gonna be a fun summer. I can just feel it."

She stuck her pale hand out at me, offering it to me so that I could shake it. 

"Right back at ya, sugar.", I say as I grab onto one of her fingers between my index finger and thumb and shake it gently. I had never seen anyone roll her eyes that far back into their skull before. 

It sure will be a fun summer, Captain Morgan of the S.S. Fish-E-Mart.