What Happens In Vegas, Part 2

(A male customer in his late twenties, who I recognize as one of our regulars, enters the store flamboyantly. He is usually a very high-energy person, so this is nothing out of the ordinary.)

Me: “What’s up, [Customer]?”

(He walks up to the counter and slams a huge wad of American money down in front of me.)

Customer: “Guess how much is there. If you guess right, you can have it.”

Me: “Uh… $3500?”

Customer: “Nope! It was $2500! You were close though!”

(All of a sudden, I smell the distinct scent of weed. I realize he’s totally high.)

Me: *trying not to laugh* “So, what are you doing with all that money?”

Customer: “I’m going to Vegas, baby! Also, I need to pick up that fax you got for me.”

(I retrieve the fax. As I’m doing so, an elderly woman walks into the store. My manager comes out to help her at the other end of the counter.)

Customer: “Okay, thanks! I have to leave now. I need to get all the way to the airport!”

Me: “All right, then. Have a good time in Vegas.”

(He walks out, then comes back in a second later as he’s forgotten his car keys on the counter. As he’s leaving again, he stops in front of the door and turns back to face us.)

Customer: “Woo! I’m going to get herpes!”