GameStopped

     A small blonde boy named Logan walked confidently up to the counter and slid something into view. I paused, looked down, and realized that it wasn't a game; it was his report card. I studied it for a moment as the boy's mother beamed. "Good job!" I said loudly. "He wanted to show you," said the mother. I quickly stepped to the spinner-rack of game related trinkets and selected a few of the more expensive Nintendo related ones. I spread the prizes across the counter in front of the boy's bespectacled blue eyes. He wisely chose the wallet with a rubber image of a NES controller glued on the front. "Keep up the good work, Logan," I spoke more privately this time.
     I had done it! In this moment I had achieved my goal of becoming more than a reservation-pushing, subscription-cramming drone of a nerd. Logan touchingly admired me; giving me pride. I did not operate as the game store clerk of yesteryear who fingered his know-it-all thick framed glasses into his brow and explained in detail the purposelessness of owning a Macintosh while children nearby secretly wished to be treated as equals. Now I had proof of my ability to positively impact a child's life. My responsibility had reached a new height of validation.
     One day, a child I had never seen before entered our store. He was chunky and short with dark bowl-cut hair and skin that looked like dough baked via moonlight. His name was David. David was a selfish, narrow-minded, shallow, chauvinistic, presumptuous, napoleonic toad of a boy. David was also our new District Manager. David made his primary goal the elimination of all management members who he deemed as under-performers. One manager was terminated due to the fact that while she was on maternity leave, her assistant failed to make a deposit. Another was fired for leaving a drawer unlocked overnight.
     In midsummer 2008 David called me into the office in the back of our store. The same store I shopped at as a child. The same store at which my father bought me 'Super Metroid' as I sheepishly pretended not to notice. "Sit down, John." I squirmed as Boy David spoke my name. As the purpose of this meeting became clear I stood and walked to the front of the store. I clocked-out and cancelled the games I had reserved. I returned to the back office and gathered my things. Boy David was on the phone. I shot him a look as if he had just run my only son over with a dirt bike.
     I slung my things in the backseat of my car as the last few years of my life replayed in my head. I thought with anger about the late hours, deadlines and goals that were pressed upon me. I thought about all the morons I had ever worked with and for. I thought about the customers who stole and stank and fucked up my store and about how I had cleaned up after them time and time again. My customers... I thought about Logan. I slammed my car door and marched back towards the store. I strode in, my eyes fixated on the office door. I swung it open and saw Boy David still on the phone. His gray eyes met mine, shocked. I quickly walked towards him as I pulled my arm back and thrust an open hand into the space between us. He lowered the phone and placed his clammy hand inside mine. I squeezed his hand gently and looked down into his eyes. I could feel his hand relax as we stood there alone. "God bless you, David. It was a pleasure working with you."
He had no response. I had done it again.