About now, Ckay was ready to punch someone, whether it be a small child or an adult, her patience was running thin.

So, they had called her to Aisle 7. She hated Aisle 7 with a passion. Why? It had Barbie and Ken. She hated Barbie and Ken like no one knew. Some woman and her young daughter were yelling loudly at each other, the girl wanting to buy a new "Fairytopia" Barbie, and her mom was fighting back as equally loudly as the girl was screaming, minus the tears and red face, that the doll cost too much and she wasn't going to buy it.

Ckay figured the kid might as well just give up and let it go. The girl probably had seventy nine barbies at home anyways, why'd she need another one?

But that was just the thing, everyone always wanting more. Well, whatever that 'more' was they'd probably find it here. Ckay would've preferred not having to wear the vest with the "How may I help you today?" on the back, considering several times random people, including smelly little old women, came up to her and asked her where various objects [some of them she'd prefer not to think of ever again] were. She had to be patient and show them, especially when saying "aisle five" or "aisle two" wasn't enough.

It made her want to scream very loudly and throw a tantrum like the girl next to her.

Speaking of the hissy-fit-ing girl next to her, we never really got to the point as to WHY Ckay was here.

Apparently while this girl was having a fit she managed to knock over more than plenty of boxes of the dolls. Ckay would've preferred someone else do the job of picking them up [because A. she hated sorting dolls back to their prices and B. they stared at her like they were going to hit her], as she'd much rather be watching paint dry or something of the sort.

Sizzle. Ooo.
Short fuse.

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP?!" she yelled at the girl, having turned around from the shelf. "Am I the only one this screaming six--" the girl stopped her and corrected her, telling her she was eight and not six, "fine, whatever, eight year old is giving a headache to?"

And with that, she left the remaining barbie boxes on the floor and stormed out to the end of the aisle in quite the hostile manner.
Anyone walking by would either stare and keep walking, stop and stare, or probably come up and poke her to see if she'd explode or something.

She couldn't blame them.

What an absolute dreadful day this was turning out to be so far.
She was still standing at the end of the aisle, her palms covering her face rather frustratedly. More than likely, her face was a brighter shade of red right now. When Ckay got angry, odd things tended to happen. She didn't do so much as throw a fit; this was probably the first time she ever really had yelled at someone. And that someone was a Wal*Mart customer, which it probably wasn't the best decision to yell at a customer considering that customer could probably tell the manager and then Ckay'd get one hell of a 'talking-to', as her brother used to say.

She let out a deep sigh, jumping slightly when she heard a voice from someone next to her. Frankly, she was too caught up in her own anger and frustration to even hear anyone walk past her which was probably why she didn't hear the person walk over to her. The voice in her head had burst into a fit of rage as well, and as loud as that argument was going on [had you heard it] you probably wouldn't question the fact that it was more than likely impossible for her to concentrate on people walking around her.

"Huh? Oh.. Yeah. That was the most atrocious thing I've gone through yet. There's nothing like screaming kids in the toy aisle of Wal*Mart. It's almost a way to energize yourself without having to drink any caffeinated beverages," she rolled her eyes, the tone of her voice rather deflated, sounding as though at any moment she was ready to turn around and go on picking up the boxes. No doubt if she ever saw the two again she'd probably have to restrain herself from stabbing their eyes in with the Fairy Barbie's magic wand, or whatever the hell the stupid thing carried.

She let out a sigh, followed by a rather stressed "oh dear" as she ran her fingers through her hair with the impression that she was going to tie it up. She would've, had she not discovered that she had no hair tie on her wrist. Muttering some sort of swear word under her breath, she checked the pockets of her vest [which was covered in various pins, including her name tag with the crooked letters reading "CKAY". She'd had to fight to get that written on there instead of her real name] only to find she still didn't have one. Oh well, she could buy a pack or just do without, it wasn't like it was a life or death situation.

She turned to stare at the Barbies again, then looking up at him out of the corner of her eye. She blinked a few times, an almost curious look on her face. She rose onto her tiptoes, losing her balance as she came back down, causing her right foot to fall forwards and keep her from falling. Dumb sneakers made a squeak noise and a slight scuff mark, but she'd worry about that later.

"I feel like they're staring at me," she uttered in a rather low voice, blinking as she brushed a few more strands of hair away from her face, "then again, I always feel like they're staring at me."