Mom Is Bugging Out

(My customer is a young high-school kid wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt, hemp necklace, torn jeans, and sandals. He usually comes to my checkout line because I don’t give him a hard time when he buys a ton of munchies with very red eyes. This time he looks surprisingly sober.)

Me: “Evening, pal, how’s it going?”

Customer: “Ugh, not so great.”

(He proceeds to put 16 cans of bug spray on the counter.)

Me: “Yikes, got a bug problem?”

Customer: “No, but my mom thinks we do. She doesn’t realize she accidentally ate one of my, uh, you know, special cookies, and I have to play along so she doesn’t figure out it’s not real.”

(Years later, I returned to the area to find him wearing a suit and tie as store manager!)