“Okay,” he says. “When a bag is full, you have to pull it out of the bin, wrap a twist-tie around the neck, and toss it on top of the cooler. It stays there until the distributor comes in for his weekly delivery. It gets pretty crowded up there.” He points at the top of the cooler. “Look.”

I look up and see at least a dozen full bags pushed together. They look like massive red balloons full of aluminum and glass.

Brandon says, “That brings us to the dirtiest part of this job, something you pray Huey won’t make you do more than once or twice a year.”

“What is it?”

“The bags. Some of them are up there a whole week and leak all over the place, kind of like the carts.” He scrunches his nose. “The top of that cooler gets to be like a Slip ’N Slide full of pop and beer, all slimy and sticky. After a few months, the whole store reeks. Usually Huey’s too drunk to notice, but if enough customers complain, he makes you get up there and clean it with rags.” He shakes his head. “When it comes time to do it, be sure to wear old jeans and a sweatshirt you don’t mind getting rid of. Your clothes get so wet and gooey that you’ll have to throw them out when you’re done. Hope you have a strong stomach, too. Every time I’m up there I gag from the smell. You never get used to it.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“No problem.” Brandon looks around, shrugs. “Well, that’s all the important stuff. Just keep the cooler stocked, the shelves full, and the floors clean. If you can do that, this job’s a breeze.” He looks around as if somebody’s watching us. Then he whispers, “It has a lot of perks, too. Biggest thing you need to know is that Huey’s too hammered to keep an inventory.” He smiles. “The man has no clue what’s in the store at any given moment.” His freckles seem to brighten as he talks. “The guy doesn’t keep track of anything, Zach. You can steal him blind and he’ll never know. Even with the back door sealed.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His face looks like a big radish now. “I mean, not cash or anything. Stock boys never get to work the register, but you can basically take whatever else you want.” He points to the rear-entry door of the monstrous beverage cooler. I haven’t been inside yet, but the storage area of the cooler takes up three-quarters of the back room.