his head was the shape  of a triangle

his jaw  sat there  like  an indifferent  feline

his cheeks were the color
of plums

his ****** hair was light, but present nonetheless.

he was about 6'0,  thus above the cut-off range for ******.

The women would come in and talk to just him for minutes at time,
holding up the line,  but the customers didn't care;  they wanted to talk to him too.

& he would dance around,
and pop his Xanax in the bathroom,  and his dealer would come in and hand him some **** back when it was illegal--
and in plain view of the owners.

''Don't you see what  this ****** is doing?" I'd say
in exasperation- - but they'd shrug.

His beauty was good for business,
even when he was slurring   and   in a near-comatose state--

those eyes,
and perfectly sculpted brow,   and hair like an 80's detective   put  everyone in a   daze.

& one day he got in my face,   so I threw him over a counter,
and his elbow whipped back violently,
and he made a little  whimpering sound,
and I was promptly fired.

& I went and bought a beer
and jacked off

& I thought of those eyes, while so afraid.

and then I started
  putting in applications  for another **** job
a day later for Sears