Making A Boob Of One’s Self, Part 11
A harried-looking woman comes up to the pharmacy counter.
Customer: “Do you have anything for hormones?”
Me: “I need you to be a little bit more specific, ma’am.”
Customer: “It’s my teenage son! He has too many hormones! I can’t take it anymore! He has no socks left! I can’t buy anymore!”
Me: “Oh… wow. Um… I think you would need to talk to a doctor about that, if you think it might be a health risk. I can’t offer you any over-the-counter medicine that would help you, I don’t think.”
Customer: “But you don’t understand! All he thinks about are boobies! There’s something wrong with him!”
Me: “Not that this is medical advice, but it sounds like there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him at all.”
Customer: “Ridiculous! I can’t handle so many boobies!”
She continues muttering about teenage hormones while the pharmacist comes up to me.
Pharmacist: “Did she just ask to chemically castrate her teenage son?”
Me: “That’s what it sounded like. Does that even happen?”
Pharmacist: *With a wry smile* “The Lord himself couldn’t stop teenage boys looking at… uh… boobies.”
Amen!
Related:
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 10
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 9
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 8
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 7
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 6
Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
