His Translation Is A Sham(rock), Part 2

(I am a customer checking out at a grocery store I shop at every week. There is one customer ahead of me. Paper and plastic bags are 5 cents each.)

Cashier: “Would you like a bag for your items, sir?”

Customer: *unintelligible grunt*

Cashier: “I beg your pardon, sir?”

Customer: *grunts again and waves*

(The cashier starts to put the groceries in a plastic bag.)

Customer: “What?! What the h*** do you think you’re doing?! I said no!

(He starts into a loud, abusive tirade about how stupid the cashier is.)

Me: *to the cashier* “Just tell him ‘Pogue Mahone’ (póg mo thóin). It’s an Irish saying that people say when they want to end an argument.”

Customer: “No, it’s not! I know exactly what it means! I read notalwaysright.com!”

Me: *smirks* “Do you really?”

Customer: “Yes! Yes, I do, you stupid b****!”

Me: “Oh? Then why are you acting like a customer who belongs on there?”

(The customer turns bright red and shuts up. He is silent for the rest of his transaction. As he is getting ready to leave, he turns to me.)

Customer: “Any chance this can stay just between us?”

Me: *grins and laughs* “Not a chance in h***!”

Customer: *scowls* “B****!”

(He finally leaves.)

Cashier: “This is going on notalwaysright.com, isn’t it?”

Me: *still grinning* “You bet!”

(She ended up convincing her manager to give me an employee discount on my groceries because I got one of the rudest regulars to shut his mouth.)

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His Translation Is A Sham(rock)