I’m Sexy and I Stoic

Customer: “How’s your boyfriend doing?”

Me: “Oh. We broke up, actually.”

Customer: “I’m so sorry to hear that!”

Me: “It’s okay. But thanks.”

Customer: “What happened?”

Me: [shrugging] “It just didn’t work out.”

Customer: “Was it the distance?”

Me: “Nah. It just didn’t work out.”

Customer: “Did he meet someone else?”

Me: “It just didn’t work out.”

Customer: “Did you meet someone else?”

Me: “It just didn’t work out.”

[Somewhere between five minutes and three weeks later…]

Customer: “Did he have weird fetishes that you couldn’t deal with?”

Me: [still impassive, but with a noticeable facial tic] “It just didn’t work out.”

Customer: “Wait, was it you? Were you the one with weird fetishes?”

Me: “It… just… didn’t… work… out.”

I don’t know if he ran out of probable causes, or if he got uncomfortable when I started visibly twitching, but he eventually accepted defeat and wandered away, leaving me with my scruples and serenity intact. Although I was ringing up another customer an hour or so later and couldn’t figure out why the lube he was buying was so cold to the touch, then glanced down and realized I was trying to scan his beer.

Apparently, my first trek up the moral high road took a heftier emotional toll than anticipated.

PS: I told my sponsor this story, and he was like, “You deserve a medal for not bending. But you also missed the opportunity to say that you broke up because he has the clap. Medal revoked.” And that’s fine. I’ve always been more of a participation ribbon kind of guy anyway.

Author: Thumper (MJ)

Thumper Marjorie Forge is a Gardnerian High Priest, an initiate of the Minoan Brotherhood, a devout Discordian, a recovering alcoholic, and a notary public View all posts by Thumper (MJ)