Fennecs are Short (Otherwise Untitled)
#39 of Short Stories
A fennec tries to buy beer.
~ The gas station smelled strongly. She couldn't quite untangle the mess of odors, but the fennec was pretty sure that stale coffee, burnt hot dogs, cheap cigs, and some amount of milk were the prime constituents. She looked over the six pack of beers for a moment, as if to assure herself that aluminum was a stalwart barrier against such matters. While considering picking up some Frozo-Crunch Veg-Discs she noticed that the macaw behind the register had been eyeing her warily. She decided it wasn't a proper time to browse.
~ Stifling a groan as she approached the register, Victoria knew what was coming and was already pulling her papers out of her purse.
~ "I'm going to need to see some ID.", the cashier loomed over the diminutive fox. Suspicious glances back and forth between the identity document and Victoria, "...Huh...Uh... Huh." The cashier appeard dubious.
~ The fox sighed. "I'm a fennec. We're small." The macaw didn't appear convinced. Victoria leaned back to make vulgar gestures and mimed groping at her chest, "See? I'm a grown-ass woman. We're not all towers of feathers and dignity."
~ The cashier shrugged. "Whatever. If my boss asks, your ID looked real, okay?"
~ Victoria stood in frozen rage for a moment, before remembering the cans of beer on the counter neatly waiting for her friends at home. They were going to so deeply owe her for this beer run, and she could already taste the drink and their accolades. With a defeated sigh, she silently shoved a wad of bills up towards the cashier.
~ His immediate task complete, the macaw sunk back down onto his stool as Victoria shuffled out of the gas station with her change and a bag of beer, flipping the macaw the bird as she stepped out into the night.