Boneheaded

(I don’t go to this pet store often, because the service is pretty bad. In the month since I was last there, they have changed the layout.)

Me: “Excuse me, can you tell me where the rawhides are now?”

Employee: “The what?”

Me: “Rawhide bones. For dogs to chew.”

Employee: “I don’t know what they are.”

Me: “They’re rawhide that’s knotted at both ends, so it’s in the shape of a bone. They used to be on this wall right here, by the counter. I’m just wondering where in the store they are right now.”

Employee: “No. We don’t have any. We’ve never sold anything like that here.”

(I don’t want to argue, despite having bought rawhides there a month ago. I thank her and go to look at dog food, where I find an entire nine foot long display of many different kinds of rawhide bones. I gather an armful and bring them to the counter.)

Me: *holds one up* “Rawhide bones.”

Employee: “Oh.” *snorts*