The Scent Of Lies And An Added Whiff Of Karma

My family owned a coffee shop/general store where we sold all kinds of random stuff, from office supplies and toilet paper to lattes and smoothies. It was random, but it filled a need in the neighborhood.

At one point, we decided to pour candles. They were popular, so we started selling wholesale and at events. I was selling one day at a farmers’ market when a woman came to the booth. She recognises the candles, but doesn’t look at the rest of my booth.

Customer: “Oh, these candles are great! I usually buy them at this little s*** shop downtown.”

So, there I am, with my logo for the ‘s*** shop’ on my candles and a big banner for the same shop behind me. She hasn’t clocked on that the candles are handmade in my shop.

Me: *Pointing to the banner.* “Is it that s*** shop?”

Customer: *Eyes widen.* “Oh… uh… no, it must be another shop!”

Me: “Could you tell me which one? I make these candles myself, so if someone is selling low-quality copies of them, I need to know.”

Customer: *Backing away.* “Oh, I forgot. It was… uh… downtown.” *Trips over some items as she’s backing away.* “S***! F*** it.” *Runs away.*