TRASH

"Calm the fuck down, ya fuckin' loser! Now how much you want?" you say, pushing him away, he suddenly regains his composure.
"Um…um…forty dollars!"
"Alright, wait here."

You go back in, make the transaction and give the junkie his purchase. He's so eager to get high, the desperate fucker pulls out a wire coat hanger and starts cramming the fix into his track marked arm right then and there!

"Jesus! Fuck, go do that shit somewhere else!" You say and kick him to make him move along.

You continue to do your job and around night time you start to see a noticeable change in the demeanor of the customers. They're a little more rowdy. Most of them were here during the day and their high is wearing down so they're back for more, of course it hasn't worn off completely.

"Hey motherfucker, I wanna see that cocksucker Sam!"
"Well that ain't gonna happen, now tell me how much you want."
"I want YOU to get the fuck outta my way! I wanna buy directly from Sam! I don't fuckin' know who the hell you are!" he says poking you in the chest with his finger.

That's funny since he's the very same junkie who was cramming the fix into his arm with a coat hanger earlier today.