Crazy Golf

(To pay for university costs, I work for a small government-run golf course as a cashier. A customer in his forties enters the store.)

Me: “Hi. Welcome to [Golf Course]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah. I’d like to play nine holes on the course with buggy hire. Thanks.”

Me: “All right. Your total comes to $30. Will you be paying in cash or by card?”

Customer: “Actually, I was hoping I could give you this, instead?”

(The customer slides a bottle of unmarked, white liquid across the table and looks at me grinning.)

Me: “Uh… sir. I don’t know what that is.”

Customer: “Oh, I make my own perfume in my bathtub! How about this bottle for my course fees?”

Me: “Sir, I must insist that you pay with currency. Perfume is not legal tender and I will not be able to balance my till otherwise.”

(The customer takes the bottle back hastily, looking as if I’d just insulted his mother.)

Customer: “You don’t want my perfume? What kind of golf course is this?!”

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