Ten Cents For a Bag
After fighting the long line and finally paying, I gathered up my stuff including several bottles of sunblock (SPF 1000) and a new nail clipper, a device I lose once a week. Juggling the items, I took three steps toward the door, stopped and asked a manager, “Hey, you don’t have any bags back there, do you? I forgot to get one.”
“Yes sir, they are 10 cents.”
“Uh, okay…I’ll take one.”
“Sir, you’ll have to get back in line to buy the bag.”
“I have 10 cents right here.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to get back in line.”
“Or you could give me a bag this one time.”
“Sorry, sir. You’ll have to wait in line.”
“What if I tell you a joke, and if you laugh, you give me a bag. If you don’t laugh, I’ll wait in line. Ready? What time did the man go to the dentist? Tooth-hurty.”
“Get it? Tooth-hurty!” I repeated.
He stared at me. I walked out.
