Minimum Wage by Alex Tremblay-McGaw

A week or two ago Alex had an in-class writing assignment in her high school junior English class that required her to write a detailed description of an experience from her weekend and I like the results so much, I asked her to let me post it! And she's agreed.

photo by Kathryn LeBlanc

Minimum Wage

Who ever knew that garbage could have different stenches. It can. And the heterogeneous mixture of popcorn, candy, sodas and various hot foods has a distinct smell. The small doses of jalapeños and their liquid surprisingly contribute significantly. But what is more appalling is that the ice cream smells. It reeks of something resembling vomit and every time I lean over to scoop some out, I hold my breath.

My weight falls to the balls of my feet and then to my toes.The cold, hard and sticky counter takes some of my burden too. A moment of relief comes and the pain drains away like soppy water swirling down the drain. And while the blender roars, all of the chatter becomes a hum. Interrupted. The two women with insignificant and pedestrian faces stare at me. Their big doe-like eyes waiting, expecting, diagnosing me. "Yes. I will tell my manager about the price of your f@#king tea."

I am a quiet lion.

--Alex Tremblay-McGaw

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