No redeeming qualities.

'I don't like it.' The fat man said as he stared at the television. 'Whats that?' the girl next to him replied. 'New orelenes, went there once, bunch of rednecks.' He muttered offering something of a half-assed explanation. How incredibly insightful, Frank thought sarcastically. He stood in the back of the breakroom waiting for his time to begin. Fifteen minutes. The fat one always showed up an hour early, usually to watch wrestling until his time began. Frank could never understand that. Sure he tried to make it in at least a few minutes early to be on time but an hour? That seemed like tourture to him. A full hour of being on the premises without being compensated at all. Utter stupidity he thought. He had been on edge for the past week though. No booze, no weed, and no sex had seemingly taken its toll on him. It had been six days since he had taken a drink, three days since weed and a millenia since he had gotten laid. Normally the last one he could deal with but the lack of booze and weed had made him think about it more. He wanted to kill someone. Well maybe not kill exactly but at least maim and he had felt himself snapping at everyone. Frank looked at the clock, ten more minutes to go. He worked the night shift stocking shelves and normally he would be happy as a clam. But normally he would also be either drunk or stoned. Since he was neither he felt increasingly on edge, that if someone fucked with him in any way that he would snap, go insane. That he would behave like those postal workers from the early nineties, mowing down his co-workers indiscriminatly. The thought had ouccured to him before but he has brused it aside, as an idle fantasy, a product of too much time spent alone. The main thing that kept him back was his faculties of logic and reason and that jail sucked so very much. Frank glanced at the fat man again attempting to ascertain some knowledge of his nature. They had worked togeather for five years yet had seldom spoke even in passing. It was that way with human beings, he had thought, that people could be neighbors for years and yet never exchange a single word. How we all isolate ourselves from one another. Five minutes. Frank stared at the clock hoping it would perpetually remain at five minutes to ten. That time would stand still and he woulden't have to actually experience the next eight hours. Still he knew this was mere conjecture, mere fantasizing on his part. Frank looked back up at the clock, two minutes, I guess its time, he thought as he walked down towards the time clock.