Look who's talking
This took place last week. The cashier is a girl who can't be over 23. She starts ringing me up.
Cashier: So how're you?
Me: Not bad. My face is swollen because I got a wisdom tooth pulled.
Cashier: Oh man. I have to get one out soon. I'm so nervous.
Me: Yeah, it's not so bad though. At least they gave me Vicodin.
Cashier: That puts me to sleep. I don't like the way it makes me feel.
Me: No?
Cashier: Yeah, when I had my first kid...
(I stop listening to her. You have more than one child? ON PURPOSE? Youth is wasted on the young, indeed. Do you want me to babysit for one night so you can experience the world outside of dirty diapers and your failing marriage to what I'm guessing is a 22-year-old because neither of you are adults and don't know how to communicate yet?)
Cashier: And then with my second kid...
(I can babysit for two.)
