I had the following conversation with a middle-aged check-out clerk in the express line at my local grocery store last night:
Clerk: "Gummi Bears, huh?"
Me: "Yeah, my 3 year-old daughter has started to like them. So I thought I'd get her a bag for Easter."
Clerk: "That's a really big bag for a 3 year old...."
Then there's this long, awkward pause as I quickly try to figure out whether she's implying that I'm a bad parent, or merely lying about who they're for.
Me (changing the subject): "Yeah, you know, I wanted to get her some Silly Putty, too. But you guys don't seem to sell it..."
Clerk: "Sure we do. It's right over there in the 'Easter' section. Why don't you grab one while I ring up the rest of your items?"
Me: "That's ok. I'm kind of in a hurry right now. But I'm sure I'll be back before Easter."
Another silent pause. My receipt then prints out, but sits idle on the register for a second as the clerk instead looks me in the eyes with a triumphant, skeptical glare that says, "I've got you pegged, you dirty Gummi Bear eater...."
Friday, April 2, 2010
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