Turkish (De)Lights

(I don’t smoke, but I’m heading over to the home of an adult friend who does. They ask me to pick up a couple packs of cigarettes on the way. They tell me exactly what type they want, but I unfortunately forget almost as soon as I hang up the phone. No matter; I know what the cigarettes LOOK like, and the brand, so I figure I won’t have any issues getting them.)

Me: “I’d like two packs of [Brand] 100s, long.”

Cashier: *picks up two packs of cigarettes in a red package*

Me: “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I meant the ones in the gold package.”

Cashier: “Lights?”

Me: “Uh… Sure?”

(The cashier picks up two packs that are blue instead of red.)

Me: “No, I’m sorry, the gold ones.”

(I point at the clearly visible gold ones, just under the red and blue. The cashier puts back the blue ones, and picks up the red ones again; he seems to be laughing at me not knowing what to call them.)

Me: “No, no, the gold ones, there.” *points again*

Cashier: “Oh, you mean the Turkish ones.” *finally picks up gold pack*