Into the Pack N Go

Jackson realizes McKenzie’s ministrations have left him rather dehydrated. The Pack and Go is right there, so in to the convenience store he goes. At the counter, Mrs. Kim looks up. The 30-something Korean woman scowls in recognition. Jackson used to come into the store all the time when he was in high school, but Mrs. Kim never did like him and always watched him like a hawk as if he had ‘shop lifter’ written in big red letters across his forehead.

“She should be more respectful,” Jackson thinks. “The customer is always right, after all. That’s right, Mrs. Kim. You want to be very, very helpful. You want to make sure I get everything I want from you and your store.”

The shopkeeper’s expression changes.

“Hello and Good Morning!” she says. “May I help you? Anything I can do to make your visit to the Pack N Go a pleasant one?”

“Actually, I’m really thirsty,” he said. “Do you mind if I drink straight from the slushy machine? I hate to waste a cup when I just want to drink it right here. Protect the earth and all that.”

“Oh please, what ever you like!” says Mrs. Kim. “You’re the customer! The customer is always right!”

“Thanks Kimmy!” he says. “You don’t mind if I call you Kimmy, do you?”

“Oh no!” she says. “Of course not! Please do! Call me whatever you wish! Should I order a new name tag that says Kimmy?”

“Actually, why don’t you take off your blouse and write it on your left boobie with a marker?” Jackson suggests.

“I will!” she exclaims. “I will do it right now! Thank you for the suggestion!”

Jackson ducks his head under the nozzle and fills his mouth with blue raspberry slush. Then he looks up to see that ‘Kimmy’ has removed her top and picked up a black permanent marker and is looking there at her small but perky left tit there in her bra.

“Here, let me help you with that!” Jackson says.

“Oh no!” she says. “I couldn’t impose! You are The Customer!”

“Really, I insist!” Jackson says. “It was my idea and I want it to look nice!”

“Oh, well, thank you!” she says, handing him the marker.

In tiny fine script he writes ‘Hi! My Name Is’ and underneath, in large, curly letters, he writes Kimmy, with a little heart dotting the eye.

“There!” he says, squeezing her tits, careful not to smudge the ink. “That’s great! You’ve got a nice rack, Kimmy! You should show it off more often! The customer’s will like it.”

“Oh! I will!” she exclaims. “Thank you, sir! You have such good suggestions!”

“I do, don’t I?” he says.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked. “More slushy? Beer? Nachos?”

“Hmmm….” says Jackson.