Customer: [to his friend] “… so I went home with some guy and spent the night at his place, and the next morning I threw up, and then I had to go to Nordstrom to buy a suit. It was the worst birthday ever.”
I wanted to ask if he threw up because he was hungover, or because the guy he woke up next to turned out to be a hideous miscalculation in the daylight, but I didn’t want to come across as meddlesome. I also couldn’t stop thinking, “HE BOUGHT HIMSELF A BIRTHDAY SUIT,” and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to speak without giggling uncontrollably, which wouldn’t have helped much in the “I swear I’m not a douche-fountain” department.
So instead I just pointedly ignored the both of them until they got self-conscious and left. It was really the only Christlike option available.