Milking My Patience

“Woah! That milk smells bad,” I said to the dog as he stared at me expressionless. “I just bought this dang milk. I hope they take returns.”

The store opens at 6am so decided to walk over in the early morning to ask if they would take a return on the bad milk. The store is down the street, and I saw it as an opportunity to stretch my legs.

I walked in just after 6am. A lone cashier looked up with disinterest.

“Hi, I just wanted to check first — I bought some bad milk — can I return it?”

“Yes. Just bring it in.”

“OK, I’ll be back.”

I walked home and grabbed the milk and walked back in the dark. The store was still empty. I saw the same cashier.

“OK, here is the milk, where do I go to return it?”

“Oh, you have to talk to the service desk. They won’t be here for another two hours.”

“OK. Any way you could have told me that when I was here 30 minutes ago?”

“Well, you can leave the milk on the service desk. So you don’t have to carry it back.”

“How will they know it’s my milk?” I asked. I was starting to wish I had just poured it down the drain.

“Oh, they will know.”

I came back in two hours and there was a long line at the service desk. I finally got to the front.

“Yes, I’m the guy who left the milk here and I’d like to exchange it for a new gallon.”

“What milk?”