The best job I ever had was working at a package store in this little shithole town in Southeast Arkansas. We was in the middle of this dry county; the convenience stores could sell beer and wine, but if you wanted anything harder, you had to come to us.
I don't know why they call it a package store; we sold liquor. We didn't even package it, we just put it in a paper bag and that was it.
Sheriff Dan Grazier was a supposed good, God-fearing Christian and wanted us shut down and shut down yesterday. The mayor and deputy mayor and the Fire Chief outvoted him, three to one and approved our charter. But that didn't stop Dan from trying just about every trick in the book to shut us down.
He would send Danielle, his ugly little eighteen year old daughter in to try and buy some booze. President Reagan had the drinking age bumped up to twenty one, so we always asked to see some ID. Danielle had her cousin Maribelle's ID which said she was twenty one, but come on. We knew she was Danielle Grazier; not Maribelle Franklin.
One Saturday, Tommy Kollings come in and looked around. He was a cute boy, long blond hair and sweet brown eyes and pouting lips. He was a little on the scrawny side and kind of short, maybe five six or five seven. I'm six four so I kind of tower over him.
He picked up a bottle of Amaretto and brings it to the counter. I asked him for ID, and I got to give it to him; he handed it over like it wasn't no big deal.
I knew Tommy Kollings, knew his momma and older sister. Both Mrs. Junie Kollings and Trudy Kollings were some of the biggest whores in our whole county. And I don't know why we called her Mrs. Kollings; ain't one of us ever remember there being no Mr. Kollings.
Tommy's driver's license said he was nineteen. I grabbed the bottle of Amaretto and put it behind the counter. Tommy started whining and trying bargain with me.
I told him I was getting off in about thirty minutes and if he wanted, I would get the Amaretto and we'd go to my place and have us a little party. His cute little blush told me Tommy knew what I was meaning when I said we'd have us a little party.
"That's my Gremlin right out there," I smiled and he blushed again but smiled.
Tiny Tom came in right on time. We called him 'Tiny Tom' because he was at least three hundred pounds, even though he was about the size of a fireplug.
I bought the Amaretto and a few other things and Tiny Tom told me to have fun. I told him the same thing. I knew, even if there wasn't nothing happened whole night? Tiny Tom would have some bullshit story about the two or three or a hundred sex-starved women that came parading through, all needing them some of Tiny Tom's massive cock.
Tommy sat in my Gremlin and didn't say a peep whole way to my trailer. He just sat, looking anywhere but at me as we drove.
In my trailer, Tommy sat on my couch while I made us a couple of drinks. I came into the living room and Tommy was looking through my fuck magazines.
