Two black hoodies out front. Skinny comes in while fatty stays out front.
Hood up, dirty jeans.
Pale, sunken eyes, buzz cut and pockmarks.
Wrings his hands and asks quietly about the application he turned in.
Tell him I have no idea, to maybe HR during the daytime tomorrow.
HR? he asks.
Human Resources. I explain.
Mumbles thanks and hustle shuffles out, head down.
Joins fatty, chats, and off into the night.
The optimist in me hopes they were scoping the place for a robbery.