Pumpkin Spice Hallucination

I noticed the ornament when I was on my twentieth box of Pumpkin Spiced Everything merch.

I thought one of the other stockers was screwing with me, honestly. Or one of the packers threw it in a box as a joke, and didn’t have the deal to find an actual home for it, so just tossed it on a shelf to be Somebody Else’s Problem. Can’t blame any of us, really – we’re minimum wage workers, who really gives a shih tzu about proper procedure? You want us to work our butts off, then pay us a living wage. Otherwise, well, a leprechaun Christmas ornament is just going to lay on a shelf.

But it’s weird, really. Corporate is rabid about selling the holiday stuff before the holiday actually happens, and though I know the Christmas trucks will roll as soon as the last pumpkin sells, this doesn’t feel… Christmassy?

Christmassive?

Never mind the turkey in the middle month, that jack-o-lantern better be singing Christmas carols, otherwise it gets smashed. For punkin pie.

Or reindeer food.

Any which way, I slipped it in my apron pocket. The cashiers, in the same boat as us stockers, don’t need the crap of some Karen, frothing and roaring, demanding it for free, because it wasn’t priced.

Come to think of it, why isn’t it priced? Even reduced stock gets a sticker. That’s weird.

Oh, probably something left by a customer, or dropped by a kid. I’ll drop it off at Lost and Found later. But for now, it’s my break, and I’m taking it!

(Because if I don’t take my break, the idiot customers will find me, and my idiot manager will make me help them, and then I get in trouble with the Store Manager for not taking my break on time! Sorry, not sorry, not going to get yet another bogus report in my file, just to satisfy some cranky lying Karen. Screw you, Karens of the world, you miserable sacks of bitterness.)

I slipped the whatever-it-was into my store apron pocket, then went and had a mid-morning snack. Hummus is just what I need, and regular flavor, not that pumpkin spice stuff. Ugh. Yes, we carry it, in the case aside of the deli.

Of course, I got so busy after break, that I totally forgot about it.

Now, I take my apron home. Well, to my car, anyway. Let’s just say there was an incident a few months back, and one of the former stockers broke a box of slime, and decided to slime all the aprons. As a joke? To hide evidence? We don’t know, but it was all on camera. My new-issue fresh apron promptly went home with me, got laundered, and will now be in my possession, till I get fired, or quit.

I also had the vague idea of slipping the leprechaun into Automotive, maybe behind some dry gas? Because Slime Dock Worker’s brother still works there, and his idea of jokes are as rotten as his brother’s. But, you know, forgot, and I guess it was still in my pocket when I clocked out. Three hours later, of course, and of course, they won’t give me overtime.

Color me shocked when I didn’t set off the alarms when I left. Just kidding, I completely forgot it was there.

I was shocked, though, when I found an exact same duplicate in the next day’s shipment.

I popped it into my pocket, only remembering at that moment, that I now had two.

Only, my pocket was empty.

Okayyyyy….

Weird, but have you worked retail?

I slipped the now – new? – ornament back in my pocket, vaguely worried that someone was screwing with me. I hoped no one knew how to break into my car.

And then life got busy, and I was cleaning up an awful (and deliberate) spill in the pickle aisle, and I wasn’t paying much attention. Till I reached to put another shampoo bottle from the box onto the shelf, and the ornament was in the way.

All right, someone’s really screwing with me.

Problem is, it’s working.

I jammed the leprechaun back into a pocket. Did… that painted leprechaun… wink at me?

Retail, folx. It gets to you.

It happened again, three bottles later. Same brand. Not mine; way too expensive for my budget.

And again, four later.

This time, when I shoved the ornament into my pocket, I hissed, “Look, I can’t afford it! What are you trying to do to me, here?”

Luckily, even our regulars know we’re nutz. The lady with the three brats, who were bopping each other with sodas a few feet away, didn’t even notice.

But I did take the last shampoo bottle back with the empty box, and told my boss I’ll buy it at end of shift. He nodded as I put it in the proper bin. Butt’s covered.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. My blood sugar must be wonky, I wasn’t even reacting to the screaming match between the cashier, and some coupon warrior with a stack of expired coupons. Coupons… to a different store.

I watched the carnage from the safety of one-way glass in the break room. Then the manager waded in. Yes, one-way glass, because if they can see us, they think they can order us around.

Even when I’m shopping for myself. On my days off. At other stores.

I pulled out the ornament, and those leprechaun eyes were glowing.

Look, I talk to inanimate objects. Work where I do, and you’ll understand, that the conversation with the things are better than with the customers. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, okay? But if you’re trying to pull pranks on us low-life drones, please don’t. Our lives are bad enough. If you can pull pranks on those entitled moms and their unsavory crotch fruits, have at. Just, like, make sure we can’t get sued. Okay? And raises would be amazing. I’d like to eat more than ramen for the third week in a row, you know?”

Those eyes were really twinkling in a very creepy way. I sighed, and put the ornament back in my pocket. The rainbow seemed to glow for a moment, before the apron’s canvas covered it.

Back to it, I guess. I hope that bologna sandwich stays in my stomach. I don’t have much, with prices the way they are.

I was just in time for the screaming Karen to march out with her hellspawn, the cashier in tears, and the manager looking like he wanted to strangle that harridan. I could see her marching out to her car, throwing kids and groceries into various auto orifices, and screeching out of the parking lot.

Only to watch all four tires blow out on the road, after she tried cutting off a car trying to turn into our parking lot.

The manager barely glanced out. “Call nine-one-one, and I’ll pull the tape. Witch can’t sue us for it, it’s off our property.”

Which was nice.

I was even nicer, later, when we pulled the footage of her getting arrested. She actually took a swing at the responding cop, and her bawling brats were hauled off by their dad. He’s a nice guy, and his kids behave on the few occasions he brings them in. Can I tell you how much I’m hoping for a divorce?

Anyway. Once the entertainment’s over, I have no excuses. More boxes await, in the back, that need unpacking. I avoided the mountain of pumpkins, ghost balloons, and black cat cakes. Probably pumpkin-spice baked beans, or some other monstrosity, awaited me.

Ah. Pumpkin Spice veggie mix. Delightful. Sigh.

Maybe I should put these over in Automotive? I’m sure they have Pumpkin Spice seat covers, or something.

I see a glittery green shamrock above the carrots.

I stare, unsure of what I just saw, and it fades.

My hand digs deep into my apron pocket, pulls out an ornament with a merry-cheeked, grinning, green-clad, leprechaun. Grin, eyes, rainbows, all glittering. “Why,” I hissed, “would I need a bag of carrots?

Did the grin get bigger?

“Fine. I’ll get them at the end of shift.” I stacked bags of no-don’t-think-about-it, trying not to think of the type of person who would buy this dreck. Just in time for a gaggle of latte-swilling soccer moms to surround me, exclaiming in delight. They cleaned me out, and even took the box as a trophy.

Yikes. That’s disturbing, and I’ve seen a lot of weirdness here. Don’t ask me about third shift; it’s best you don’t. It’s for your own sanity.

A different Karen was banned from the shop the very next day. She was a regular offender, but this time, her screaming about meat slicing and pimento loaf being too expensive (or something, I was stocking Pumpkin Spice Pumpkin Peeps) caused a nice old man to have problems with his pacemaker. He went to the hospital in an ambulance, she was perma-banned. He’s fine, by the way. Just needed a new battery or something.

A few days later, some teens doing their regular “steal some carts and beer, and film ourselves having a crash race for content” thing, took them to the road, and they promptly tripped over a visiting biker club. The bikers got free beer; the kids got some hefty bills that Mummy and Daddy couldn’t make go away.

The day after that, the ornament appeared on the bread loaves that I was stacking in the bargain bin. I sighed, fought off a greedy granny with a rock-hard baguette, and took those back to my bin.

I thought I heard a “Hee hee, that’s three!” from my apron, but I probably imagined it. The Pumpkin Spice Flavor Dinner Plates I’d been stacking were making me quite dizzy.

I went home with my stale loaves.

And the next morning, there was a green-clad wee man in my kitchen.

He was smoking a pipe. Well, there goes my deposit…

“Easy, friend. If all goes according to plan, my smoke will vanish, just like the rainbow.”

“Plan? Whose?”

“All the things ye could say, laddie, and ye focus on the plan?”

“You’re a leprechaun. Likely from the ornament. And I’m hallucinating, because I’ve inhaled way too much Pumpkin Spice fake scent. And flavor. Whose plan?”

“All right laddie – er, lassie?”

“I prefer Two Spirit, like the Indigenous Peoples. Enby, for the locals. They / them pronouns.”

“Twa’ Sidhe? Lucky indeed. Well, let’s go with hallucination, then. No magic beans, no fairy godmother, just me subbin’ fer an adventure-giver, because not many magic folk emigrated. Too much already goin’ on over here. But an adventure I have fer ye, iff’n ya want out of that mind-killin’ job of yorn.”

“Lead on, Pumpkin Spice Hallucination. What first?”

“Gather your things in a knapsack. Ye’ll need more than that leetle apron, fer sure. And the soap, and the carrots, and the bread. Three tasks, ye ken. A knife, a flint, and a flannel, they’ll help as well.”

I gathered some essentials, like a toothbrush, and toothpaste, on top of those things. Might as well be civilized. I couldn’t help but notice the haze in the kitchen, as a fog rose, and a beautiful end of a rainbow shimmered into view.

“Now, laddie – er, duine – we follow the rainbow!”

What do you think I’ve been doing, hallucination? Enbys aren’t exactly welcome everywhere, you know.

And we walked, over the rainbow.

And we had Adventures.

But that’s another story.