Where’s Your Sign?
November 11th, 2005 by rsm
Scene: Drugstore checkout counter, late morning.
I’m in a hurry, box of Shout-wipes and two dishtowels in one hand, six-pack of club soda in the other. My grey sweater streaked in dark brown, damp, smelling of hot-chocolate.
The clerk looks at me and asks with a smile, “Didjya spill something?”
Genius.
Scene: Drugstore checkout counter, late morning.
I’m in a hurry, box of Shout-wipes and two dishtowels in one hand, six-pack of club soda in the other. My grey sweater streaked in dark brown, damp, smelling of hot-chocolate.
The clerk looks at me and asks with a smile, “Didjya spill something?”
Genius.