[ WP ] A candy store owner that gets people to tell him their deepest secrets when they are at the checkout .

Officious. 
 
 Of all the words I've been called before, that's definitely one I'd never expected. I even had to go and look up the word to know what it mean. I do n't like to think I'm nosy or imposing on anyone. One minute I'm asking how their day is going, cracking a joke about what they're gon na use that giant gummi worm for, the next minute I'm holding them as they cry to me about how they were unfaithful to their lover. Or how they've killed someone before. Hell, I had that one lady come in here and tell me that she once used the flat of a knife to rub one out, as she wanted to, and I quote, `` Get off on the razor's edge.'' Crazy people out there, man. 
 
 Therapist with an affinity for sweets, you may ask? Nope. Just a guy working a candy store in the mall. Owner, specifically, but the only employees I have are two teens who work the weekends or nights during the week, so I'm usually holding down the fort all the other times. 
 
 I'm not sure myself why this happens. It was n't this way when I first opened up the shop. It was like any normal establishment; they take some sweets, I take their money, all is well. Sure, I was n't exactly making a killing off of it, but I was keeping the store going, gaining regulars and satiating those who were hit with sudden cravings. 
 
 Then, at some point, things got weird. Really weird. 
 
 I can still remember the first time it happened. I had just opened the shop for the day, and seeing as how it was a week before Valentine's Day the stock primarily consisted of hearts, roses, and every semblance of love one could imagine in candy form. Considering that business did n't really pick up until around noon, I'd resigned myself to sitting on the stool behind the register and reading the newspaper. 
 
 The familiar door jingle echoed through the shop. My eyes darted up to find a young woman staring along the walls. She was attractive. Mid 20's, I'd wagered. It was the middle of the week, so I imagined she'd be at school or whatever job she had. Could've been her day off. 
 
 `` Hello,'' I offered, hoping she was n't just another browser. 
 
 `` Hi,'' she'd replied, smiling faintly before returning back to the items on display. I was n't new to the idea of just letting a customer do their own thing, so I went back to reading. 
 
 Five minutes later, she comes up to the counter with two heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. `` I'll be getting these.'' 
 
 `` Sure.'' I scanned the items and punched away at the register. I decided to make small talk; that's my best way of getting repeat customers. `` So, two boxes? The lucky guy must be special.'' 
 
 She chuckled nervously. `` Uh, yeah, something like that.'' 
 
 `` Or maybe you did something wrong and have to make it up to him.'' 
 
 `` No, no, not at all.'' 
 
 She was nervous. Probably socially awkward, which, for me, was weird to see coming from such a cute girl. As I placed the boxes into the bag, I figured it was best to just finish the transaction quietly. No sense in trying to start a conversation with someone who was n't biting. 
 
 Then, she dropped the bomb. 
 
 `` Actually, it's for two guys. I, uh... slept with both of them, and I ca n't choose which one I like more, so I'm hoping I can get both.'' 
 
 My hand, poised to rip the receipt from the register, was frozen as I registered her words. *Wait, what? * `` Come again?'' 
 
 She began to blush, which was probably the most life she'd expressed ever since coming in. `` Well, I feel like I love both of them, and yet I do n't know which I love more. But I do n't want to hide it from them, either. I dunno, I guess, I love them both equally, and maybe I can date them both.'' 
 
 Is that even a thing? Do people do that? I mean, I'd heard about something like that before in the news somewhere, but... anyway. I tried to hide my surprise, but I'm sure I failed horribly. 
 
 `` I, uh... well, good luck with that?'' 
 
 She smiled at me, in a way that perplexed me even further. She looked liked I'd just solved some life problem of hers for her. `` Thank you, I'm hoping it goes well.'' And just like that, she left. 
 
 That was the first of many. Ever since that day, people will often times randomly tell me something extremely personal about their life. I've sort of gotten used to it, and I've embraced it. Most people who confess to me usually end up as repeat customers, so I'm not complaining. 
 
 **xxxxx** 
 
 ( I was tired while writing this, but I wanted to write *something* for today, so I hope it's not too bad. )
