A funny thing happened at work today. I was rendered speechless. Now those of you who know me IRL may find this hard to believe, but it's true.
And it involved stripper ones (AGAIN, I know, who can believe).
The episode went something like this:
Two young adults (male & female) enter the bookstore looking for A.N. Roquelaure (Ann Rice's nom de plum for her erotic fiction).
(Yep, you learn something at this blog every day. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.).
After I tell them we don't have any, they go about browsing and then bring their books up to purchase. On checkout, the male human of this couple counts out 13 ones. Conversation proceeded something like this:
Female Form: flirty voice Where'd you get all those ones anyway?!?
ME: thinking I'm being a funny smarta-- They are SO OBVIOUSLY from his night job.
ME: chuckles at my own humor - I'm a comedic genius.
Female: Well actually, they're from my night job. But when he comes to see me he can't give me any money so I tell him which girls to give them to.
ME: *blink*blink*blink*
Female: They do it just as well as I do, right, honey?
Male: That's right baby.
ME: *blink*Blink*blink*
So much for my sarcasm.
What's possibly left to say after that?
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