Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Murder Club

(I’m working in a supermarket bakery that’s attached to a deli. Even though we’re considered separate departments, the bakery often helps the deli with simple counter customer service like slicing meats and cheeses, or making sandwiches when needed. I’m currently serving one of my favourite regular customers, an older guy who’s a police officer and always comes by at the end of his shift for sandwiches to take home for himself and his wife to have for lunch. I’m mildly complaining about our monthly department inventory while I make his sandwiches.)

Me: “It wouldn’t be so bad if the equipment was more reliable. [Manager] has been here since four am and she’s going to be late getting out because the tag scanner they gave her malfunctioned, so she has to start all over.”

Officer: “Oh, I would hate that. You think that’s bad, try inventorying a police department. Every. Single. Bullet. It’s not so bad because with everyone doing it, it gets done quicker, but it’s very tedious.”

Me: “Ugh, that’s awful. Do you have to inventory evidence, too?”

Officer: “Well, not me, but yeah, that needs to be closely inventoried regularly.”

Me: *obviously joking* “Hmm, well, if anything really cool comes in, like a spare head or crowbar, can you hook me up?”

Officer: *nodding and grinning* “Obviously!”

(At this point, I notice one of our younger employees looking at me in shock, clearly not realizing we’re just joking around.)

Me: “What?! [Officer] and I have an understanding. I give him extra peppers on his sandwiches, he hooks me up with cool crime swag and doesn’t ask too many questions about why my back yard is so bumpy and my GPS shows me on so many long, deserted roads in the middle of the night.”

Officer: *nods, acting serious, and taps the side of his nose conspiratorially with a wink*