I was at Walmart the other day (a place I avoid as much as possible), and events there reminded me of this scene I wrote for The Cutting Edge. Thought I’d share it with you:
Scott and I don’t normally waste our only day off together in this miserable place. Grocery stores have this stupid rule about not allowing dogs inside, although some of the people I see here are a lot dirtier than my dogs. And Scott’s new rule doesn’t allow me to go anywhere alone. So instead of doing the shopping by myself tomorrow, when most people are working, we are here today, along with three-quarters of the population.
“Are we going to need potatoes this week?” Scott asks.
We are standing in the vegetable section and I am staring at the widest ass I have ever seen. This ass, and the woman it is attached to, is blocking my access to the peppers, onions, and carrots. She is studying the green peppers, picking each one up and searching for imperfections. I want to shove her out of my way but I’m pretty sure I’d need a forklift.
I turn to Scott. “Oh, sorry,” I say. “Potatoes. Yes, maybe some red ones this week.”
He takes my hand. “Why don’t you help me.”
“You’re perfectly capable of picking out potatoes,” I say as he tugs me along.
“Yes, but I was afraid that lady might tip over and squash you.”
I laugh, despite my irritation. “She took up half the aisle.”
“And you looked like you wanted to kick her ass.”
He gives me a smirk. “Don’t try acting innocent. It is so not you.”
“Well, seriously, does she need to inspect every damn pepper?”
“Pick out your potatoes.”
I am standing in front of the dried beans when the lady with the ass waddles down the aisle. Scott inches in close to me. Her ass sways and I am afraid she’s going to knock one of us over. She stops on the other side of Scott and turns to examine the rice selection. She leaves her cart in the middle of the aisle. Between her ass and the cart, there is barely enough room to squeeze past.
We escape to the cereal aisle. A child is screaming for a box of chemical-coated sugar. The mother holds out Cheerios, as if the plain oat rings will somehow entice the child away from the sugar rush in the colorful box. The mother caves. She tosses the treasured cereal into the cart. The child drags a sleeve over the snot running from his nose, then gives a triumphant grin. I want to slap the mother.
“Do you remember if we need oatmeal?” Scott asks.
I have a wild urge to kick and scream and throw jars of pickles. I give myself a mental shake, turn back to Scott. “I’m sorry. What?”
Scott laughs at me. “We’re almost done. Try to relax.”
“I hate this place.”
Scott nods his head toward the departing monster child. “Did you ever pull something like that in a store?”
“God, no. But I’m thinking of trying it now.”
We make it to the end of the store. I grab a pint of Stoneyfield Farms organic vanilla ice cream and toss it in the cart. “I’m eating that whole thing myself,” I say. “I deserve it.”
Scott leans close and murmurs. “Careful, you don’t want your ass to look like that woman’s.”
I shudder as he grabs a chocolate ice cream for himself.
My name is Skye Summers. I’m a hairstylist and I can’t stop fantasizing about killing my clients. Not all of them, of course. I only want to kill the ones who irritate me, which, if I’m being honest, is most of them. My occasional fantasies have turned into chronic daydreams. They’re bloody and vivid, like watching a slice-and-dice movie on IMAX.
I also want to kill my husband’s ex-girlfriend. She’s not a client but she tops my list. Eighteen years ago, she gave birth to his daughter and has tormented him ever since. I should be troubled by this growing desire to use my surgically sharpened shears for more than a haircut. Instead, I wonder how I can get away with it.
All of my titles are available in print and ebook format. Find them all on Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, iTunes, Smashwords and Sony’s Reader Store. I’m also in the process of getting them all narrated as audiobooks.
I hope you enjoyed today’s visit with Skye.
Thanks for reading.
Tags: book excerpts, dark comedy, dark humor, hairstylists, Murderous Fantasies, Novel Excerpts, Novels With Hairstylists, Serial Killers, Skye Summers, Surgically sharpened shears, Suspense Authors, suspense novels, The Cutting Edge, Walmart, Walmart People, Walmart Shoppers