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It's tough being pestered by people all the time, but working at a sales desk isn't exactly going to help the pestering. Sometimes I wish everyone would just leave and pester someone else who wanted to be pestered, like Carly in the desk next to mine, but if they went and pestered other people, I suppose I wouldn't get paid for not bringing in any new customers or sales, and then I'd be fired for that fact. I forced the customary smile upon my face as a teenage girl approached me. It was always the teenagers who picked me I've noticed. The older people tend to avoid me for some reason. Did I produce some sort of chemical that repulsed anyone over the age of twenty?

'Yes, how may I help you today, Madam?' A sickly sweet, fake voice issued from my mouth as the girl reached the desk. She wasn't holding any product that we sold, nor did she look like someone who would frequent a perfume store. She was wearing a tatty long coat that had coffee stains and had been badly darned in places. Her clothes were generally scruffy and an odd odour was wafting around her. She looked more like a hobo than anything else. Perhaps that was why she came here, to attempt to smell better than what she currently did.

The girl looked up and smiled at me. It was a bit scary because she was smiling without saying a word and kept staring at me. I was starting to get extremely uncomfortable under her intense stare when she finally spoke.
'Here, for you.' Her smile became even bigger as she laid down a surprisingly clean sandwich on my desk. 'It's a salmon and cream cheese sandwich. I see you here every day and you always look hungry. You keep staring at the little coffee shop next door so I bought you a sandwich from there.' With that parting remark she drifted out of the store, leaving me rather surprised and Carly looking absolutely horrified.

'Don't eat it. She's probably poisoned it or something. You can't trust people like her!' Carly had a fair point, but the sandwich was still in its packaging and the expiry date hadn't gone by yet. Upon further inspection I found that it was indeed a salmon and cream cheese sandwich. It looked perfectly normal and nothing adverse had been inflicted upon the innocent sandwich. It looked so normal that I proceeded to eat it as soon as it was my break. Carly looked scandalised at this act of complete and utter disregard for her words of wisdom and spent the rest of my break lecturing me about taking food from strangers like I was five again.

The girl came time and time again. If there were no other customers around we would chat about trivial meaningless things. I found out her name was Myra and that she was no hobo, just a girl who dressed incredibly scruffily and normally wore old hand-me-downs. It explained the tatty clothes and perhaps the funny smell. When no-one was looking I would often sneak her various hot drinks from the break room. In return she would often bring me various food stuffs and we would share. Some days it would be savoury treats like roasted peanuts or cheese crackers, other days it would be sweets like ice cream sundaes or a fancy desert like lemon meringue pie. She once even brought in prawns with a dip, but I had to reject that one due to being allergic to shellfish.

I was enjoying work now. Having someone to chat to who wasn't a hygiene Nazi with OCD, or a customer who was being incredibly picky and giving orders like the high and mighty, was always relaxing. Carly particularly disliked Myra because Myra represented almost everything that went against her regimental cleanliness. Carly hated the fact that Myra didn't bother brushing her hair often, didn't bother about using a knife and fork for every meal and used her hands, wore tatty clothes that looked like they needed a good scrub and most of all Carly hated Myra for the fact that she could never find an excuse to kick Myra out because she was never technically doing anything wrong. It infuriated her that she had to see Myra's tanned face at least once a week without being able to do a single thing about it. For that fact I tended to encourage Myra to come over more often so we could watch as Carly fumed behind her desk.

I never really got out of that job, dealing with people. I changed jobs quite a few times but no matter what I was always placed in a section where I would have to deal with the public and wear the fake smile that I had spent so many years perfecting. It became the norm and I quickly gave up on trying to find a job that did not involve talking to strangers. Wherever I went I would always inform Myra of the move and she would always come to visit sometimes. It became less frequent but she still made time to see me and would bring food so we could talk and eat on the sneak. I always wondered why she had picked me to pay any sort of attention to, but I'm glad she did. She was a good friend and I enjoyed her company. It added small excitement to my life, wondering when she'd next turn up and what sort of exotic food she would bring.