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.