Jimmy wasn’t an aggressive person. Scrawny seventeen-year-old students don’t have that luxury. But he’d only been on the job for an hour and already been challenged to fight three different times.
Life in the menswear department was proving to be surprisingly difficult.
“Some advice…” said his charming co-worker with the big brown eyes and the wry smile. “Ask first, then spray.”
With a nod and a wry smile of his own, he watched as she demonstrated on an elderly female customer.
Suddenly, Jimmy no longer had any interest in hawking men’s cologne.
Now all he wanted was her phone number.
The Weekday One Hundred 