Can you guess where I got bored in this short story? Tell me where I should've gone with this instead please

The automatic sliding bell rang out from the shot through the speakers of the convenience store.

The cashier looked up from the old newspaper he had found while rummaging in the store's miscellaneous closet. One that which he read in his downtime to look smarter to new customers. A plight that didn't go unnoticed. Making its way to gossipers across their small town that a strange cashier had been reading the same newspaper for weeks.

The cashier didn't care much for this last fact but it could be reasoned that it was because. He was simply unaware.

The eyes of the cashier peered over to the automatic doors landing on an unfamiliar man. The cashier took note of his out-of-place nice beige shirt, the cashier thought to himself 'I can't imagine spending money on a beige T-shirt but I guess there really are all sorts of people out there.' But if that was all, the cashier would have just gone back to looking studious but this stranger was staring right back at him. With a neutral face, he had originally completely ignored that leaned more towards the face you would see before someone broke into a smile. It felt like he was. He didn't know, but it made the cashier uncomfortable. The silence in the store, occupied by the humming refrigerators and a ruinously hardworking desk fan that made the cashier feel alone despite clearly not being alone made his skin prickle.

The cashier was about to say something but the cartoonishly bland man spoke first. "I like your newspaper!" The customer said before walking further in from the doorway and out of sight into the candy aisle. The dull clopping of his shoes joined the rhythm of the store as he shopped.

The cashier felt... Confused, shooting a glance at the newspaper that had been resting in his hands, yes he had picked up the newspaper to be seen as intelligent but it felt hollow and weird to be complimented like this.

Shaking his head, the cashier slid the phone from between the newspaper folds checking the time.

3:27 am. His shift ended at 6:15 am. He just needed to hold out for a little over 2 hours. Glancing back up the cashier yelped in shock. The strang- no; the customer had been standing right in front of his desk. "ACK!" Noticing the confused look on the customer's face the cashier pulled himself together to apologize. But once again before he could get his words out of his mouth he was beaten back by the plain placid voice of the customer.

"I don't like to do this, but you are boring me. I had a whole bunch of stuff planned building up to this but this feels like a poorly written scene in a generic piece of media so I'm just going to get this over quickly. I will be right outside until 6 am, if you leave at any point while I'm still here I will kill you." a knife flourished from the stranger's pocket into his palm.

But he wasn't done, " Obviously, yadda yadda don't call the police, the original idea was to have you find out they won't pick up when you eventually do try but I'm over it, I made a visit to your town's sheriff department which by the way was staffed with only TWO people. I swear to god I am done with small towns after this, there is nothing exciting about small game like you. Just... Stay inside and tell the story when whoever comes to question you, questions you. Ok?"

The facade of a face on the edge of smiling fell. What replaced it was a disappointed and bored face.

The cashier, scared out of his wits replied with a feverish nod.

At that sign the custom- no murderer made his way back to the door, deftly removing the knife he had planted in a bar of candy at some point. But just as he was about to cross the threshold, he stood. Frozen.

Turning around and fast walking to the cashier who had already started looking in his phone for his mom's phone number. The murderer gave no regard for the cashier who fell back into the cigarette stand behind him as the murderer grabbed the newspaper the cashier had set down and ripped it into pieces.

And with that, he turned and walked off into the night. The shot speakers of the convenience store doors rang for the second time that night.