we used the elastic to make necklaces at my non-real career, and it was awesome

"That's an interesting Homarus americanus."

I had asked her for help finding elastic thread for making necklaces, and after directing me without a smile towards the appropriate aisle, she made that comment.

"Excuse me?" I replied.

She gestured toward my arm without saying anything else.

"Oh," I said, "the lobster?"

"Yes, Homarus americanus."

Clearly, she was not trying to admire the artwork of my tattoo or connect with me over a shared affinity for lobsters. She didn't ask me about it. She didn't say she liked it. It was just the perfect opportunity for her to broadcast her knowledge of the genus species name of a certain animal.

"Okay, I didn't know that was the technical name."

"Yeah, I used to sit through lectures on them all the time. Back when I had a real career as a marine biologist."

Her condescending tone made me cringe a little and hope that none of the other employees could hear her. I took it this woman was bitter to be working at Michael's craft store, and I could only imagine how she made her coworkers feel, as if she were above them and only stocking shelves and dealing with customers because she had been somehow ripped away from her rightful place at lobster lectures.

As sometimes happens in my brain, a portrait of this woman and snapshots of her daily life at Michael's began to take shape...

She never explains what ended her glory days as a marine biologist, and no one asks. They want to talk about their weekend plans and commiserate about how the ends of their respective shifts can't come soon enough. They don't want to hear about how they're "almost out of Hippocampus erectus stickers on aisle 7." She's not even assigned to aisle 7. It's not even time for inventory. She's just trying to show off to people who don't care. They duck around corners when they see her coming, because they know she just wants to try to alienate them with a tirade about how the seasonal display is impossible, because Amphiprion ocellaris and Oncorhynchus mykiss would never share the same habitat. Doesn't she realize she's only alienating herself?

She must not realize it, because she continues to talk down to the people around her. They continue to avoid her, leaving her to feel more isolated, more misunderstood, more set apart from these people she's forced to work with, meaningless day in and meaningless day out. Yes, she's a martyr here at Michael's,a lonely victim, a Carassius auratus out of H20.