The Price Of Flirting

(I’m at a large home and garden store with my mom, buying a wedding gift for a friend. We head up to the cashier, an attractive guy around my own age. Please note that between my Asperger’s and personal issues, I have some difficulty picking up on certain social cues and whatnot.)

Sales Guy: *smiling widely* “Your total is [amount lower than I expected].”

Me: “Huh? That’s odd. I’m sorry, but are you certain that’s right? I thought it’d be closer to [actual price] with some tax.”

Mom: “Shhh!”

Me: “What? I don’t want him to get in trouble for an oversight.”

Sales Guy: *still smiling* “Nope, it’s fine; your total’s still [lower amount].”

Me: “If you’re sure…” *pays and leaves, totally baffled by the discrepancy*

(As we’re walking to our car, my mom turns to me.)

Mom: “I think that guy was flirting with you.”

Me: “Wait, seriously?!”

(I’ve never been back to that location, but whether he was just being nice or flirting, I wish I could say, “Thank you,” for the extra discount, sir, and sorry for the obliviousness!)