Locked Out of the Grocery Store in the Alley

Locked Out of the Grocery Store in the Alley

I was late for my usual shift at the grocery store, but the entrance was in this cramped, wet concrete alley under flickering magenta neon lights. I had to scan the back of my hand to open the employee door, only my wrist had this tiny glowing port that kept flashing red. Every time it failed, a robotic voice overhead warned me my shift pay was being docked by the second. My old high school chemistry teacher was standing behind me in line, looking totally bored, holding a cracked glass tablet with cables taped to it. I kept wiping rain off my skin and pressing my thumb against the scanner, but my legs felt heavy and unresponsive like I was wading through wet sand. I just felt this sick, mounting panic that I was going to be locked out on the street with zero credits and no way to get the train home.