Entreating You For The Treats

(I lock up and clean the vet clinic where I work. It’s a Saturday evening after a long, busy day. I’m in the middle of mopping the main lobby when I hear a knock at the glass door.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed until Monday morning.”

Man: “Miss, please, you have to let me in!”

Me: “I can’t let you in. There is an emergency vet clinic down the road if your pet needs a veterinarian.”

Man: “No, please, it’s an emergency!”

Me: “I can’t let you in! I could be fired!”

Man: *starts shaking the door*

Me: “SIR! Please stop doing that! I told you I can’t let you in! If you continue to shake the door, I’m going to call the police!”

Man: *on the verge of tears* “Please… please, let me in….”

Me: “Do you need to pick up medicine or something? I can’t let you in, but maybe I can call my boss to help you.”

Man: “No, I need [Brand of dog treats].”

Me: “There’s a pet store down the street that sells them, as well.”

Man: “REALLY?”

Me: “Yes…”

Man: “THANKS! I OWE YOU!”

(I never saw him again. Dude, I hope you got your treats.)

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