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at the cash register in my nearest Vons grocery store.
I get flirted with sometimes, especially by some of the young women I've come to know by repeatedly showing up in the wee hours looking a little like this Elvis dude, but this one really hit on me. I mean, she hit me. :D
I was kinda goofy, I admit, out of tiredness: I handed her four dollars and told her it should be 44 (I kinda neglected to part with the remaining $40 'til she saw it sitting with the bunch of smaller bills I had in my hand) and I tried to help her by bagging my stuff but I couldn't even get a grip on the bags and separate them. It was like my fingers just stopped functioning, along with my brain. She thought I was pretty funny, at least, but I was beginning to feel like I was in some kind of dream world and had to check to make sure I was wearing pants. Then, when I tried again to help her bag my things after she'd rung everything up (I told her I felt "superlative," just standing there...then I caught myself and said "I mean, superfluous...superlative would be okay"), she slapped my chest and shoulders a few times, shooing me off. I was assaulted! She told me if I touched it again she'd hit me. I told her she could hit me any time. :D
It's the sideburns that do it...it's never a dull moment here, it seems.
I'm afraid to go there again. Next time it'll be guns or knives, I just know it.
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