A Squeaky Clean Record
(The junior college near my grocery store has some guy who makes very good fake IDs. After a couple of months, we’ve become adept at spotting them. One night, a young customer tries to pass one on me.)
Me: “Wow, this is a really good fake.”
(The customer’s eyes go wide and she squeaks in terror.)
Me: “How old are you, really?”
Customer: *squeaks again*
Me: “Sorry, say again?”
Customer: “Seventeen?”
Me: “Wow, that’s crazy. But this is a really good fake. How much did you pay for this?”
Customer: *squeaks*
Me: “Sorry, what?”
Customer: “Two fifty?”
Me: “You paid two hundred and fifty dollars for this?”
Customer: *squeaks*
Me: “Well, I feel kinda bad that you’re losing all that money, so I’m not gonna call the police. However, I have to confiscate your ID, okay?”
Customer: *squeaks*
Me: “You have a nice night now.”
Customer: *squeaks one last time and runs from the store*
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