(I’m working New Years Eve on the tills when three rather older women come into the store. After I serve them, the door alarm goes off right after they leave. My manager goes to investigate.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, ladies, but I’m going to need to check your bags and receipts in case you took something.”

Woman #1: “No, we didn’t take anything. We swear!”

Manager: “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to come back into the store and your bags be searched.”

Woman #1: “No, we haven’t stolen! Look!”

(Suddenly, the women—all in their fifties at least—begin to lift up their long skirts and tops and pull down their bras a bit. Not finding anything, my manager lets them go and comes back into the store.)

Manager: “Thank God I get to go home and get drunk soon. I need a stiff whiskey to get those images out of my head!”