(I am sitting at the table where we require pool patrons to sign in. It is a slow afternoon early in the season, so I have been given permission to read. A patron enters with his young daughter, and I look up.)

Customer: “I think they’re mating.”

(Suddenly, the customer throws a pair of cockroaches on my still-open book. I jump back, let the book fall to the floor, and then stare back at him.)

Customer: *grins* “Wait ’til I find out what you’re REALLY afraid of!”

Me: *speechless*

(I quit two weeks later.)