Some Customers Are Particularly Pun-gent
I’m working the register when a dad rolls up with a basket and a grin like he’s been saving material for this moment. His teenage daughter trails behind him, visibly exhausted by existence.
I scan the first item, a bag of oranges.
Dad: “Orange you glad we started with that?”
His daughter exhales like she’s aged a year. I scan a loaf of bread.
Dad: “That’s the yeast I could do!”
Me: *Half-smile, half-prayer.*
I scan a bunch of bananas.
Dad: “Go ahead, split ‘em!”
Daughter: “I have never wanted to be adopted so badly.”
I scan a can of beans.
Dad: “Looking forward to eating those, it’s bean a while!”
I keep scanning. I don’t break eye contact. I will not lose. I scan frozen peas.
Dad: “Peas and thank you!”
Daughter: “I should’ve walked home.”
I finally scan a gallon of milk. He raises an eyebrow like he’s been waiting.
Dad: “Udderly essential.”
I blink. He grins. His daughter’s soul visibly leaves her body. I finish the total and hand him the receipt. He’s about to say something:
Me: “You’ve officially hit your pun limit. Next one’s a surcharge.”
Dad: *Without missing a beat.* “I’m officially out of stock, time to aisle-ent myself.”
I look at the daughter.
She mouths: “Help.”