Noise

Late for work today. Again. Late getting back from my breaks, as well. By which I mean late punching back in, because after I punch in, after my break has already finished, that's when I go upstairs and get myself something to drink. Late getting back from lunch. My eight hour shift is slowly shrinking day by day.

In aisle two there's a video advert for canned meat and pasta products. It plays non-stop. It makes noise. In aisle six there's one for toilet paper. It makes noise. At the end of aisle eight, there's one for wine. It makes noise. Specifically a tinny repetitive trumpet. The radio plays all day. The songs are on a cycle. The cycle is short enough that I always know what comes next. Between the songs they sometimes place an advert for different sections of the store. There's three of them. One for the bakery. One for the meat department. One for the prepared meals. Each one plays exactly thirty-seven times during an eight hour shift. I've counted.