Standing in Line
Tiger and Jules were standing together in line. They were forth from the front. They were waiting on the obese woman to finish her scanning. She had the fewest items left in her cart but, like many of the rest, she was going about it with no sense of urgency.
Tiger leaned into Jules and said, “I wish that warthog would get a move on.”
From behind, they heard, “You cretins ought to be ashamed. She’s beautiful, you pigs. I ought to call the manager and have you redneck slobs thrown out.”
Tiger and Jules turned around. Both were surprised at the display that matched up to the deep voice that had scolded them.
Tiger said, “Bitch, you’re not going to tell me what I think looks good and what don’t.”
The person who’d addressed them said, “I’ll have you know, I’m a man.”
“So why the dress and makeup?” Jules asked.
“He’s showing out,” Tiger snickered.
The scolder replied, “I’m not having society and mouth breathers like you telling me I’m a woman just because I look like a woman. I am whatever I want to be.”
Jules looked at Tiger.
“She’s gonna be what she wants to be but she’s gonna tell you what you ought to find attractive or distrusting. Imagine that.”
They turned around to see the fat woman pulling away.
Tiger stepped forward to take her place.
Jules turned around to the person who upbraided them.
“If you’re a man underneath all that shit, then it’s okay if I slap you, right?”
“Don’t you dare,” the person in the dress and lipstick said.
Jules smiled. He said he’d be waiting outside. He said they could settle things out there.
Panicked, the man in his dress pecked at his phone, saying he’d call the cops.
“The cops? I thought the manager was your savior,” Jules said.
“Fuck you,” the dressed man said.
“Just kidding about slapping you around,” he said. “But in the future I’d be careful about showing out when your ass can’t back up your principles.”