Department Store Blues

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Recently bought two cool shirts at a city department store and felt pretty good about myself.


At the register, a clerk inquired if I wanted to take advantage of the senior citizen discount.

What were my options? Lie, since I didn’t qualify for this discount? Smile? Punch someone?

I said I wasn’t of a certain age, she handed me a receipt with a store survey, and added that she hoped her error wouIdn’t be reflected on my survey.

Upon exiting the store, a security alarm sounded, indicating someone had committed a theft.

Since there wasn’t a great rush of guards to tackle me and wrestle me to the ground, I figured the alarm had malfunctioned.

Back home, I tried on one of the new shirts and felt some object at my side.

It was a plastic security badge that had not been detached by the clerk. Another one of her cruel jokes?

Grumbling, I got into my auto and headed back to the store, only to find a different sales clerk. I explained that the tag hadn’t been properly remove.

Oh, she said, you should have stopped when you heard the alarm.

More grumbling.



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