Two Preppies, One Pocket

Preppy 1: “Hello! What is the Hanky Code color for scat?”

Me: “Brown.”

Preppy 1: [gesturing to the preppy next to him] “Excellent. He’d like one brown hanky, please.”

Preppy 2: “No, I would not.”

Preppy 1: “Yes, you would. You said you were interested, so you need the hanky.”

Preppy 2: “I said I was curious. I don’t need the hanky.”

Preppy 1: “Get over yourself and own your scat fetish.”



Preppy 1: “You need to be more like me. I always flag.” [He catwalks across the store, strikes a pose, and glances over his shoulder like a starlet on the red carpet, pulling up his shirt just enough to expose the orange hanky in his right back pocket.] “See?”

Preppy 2: “What does orange mean?”

Me: “It means–”

Preppy 1: “It means always on the lookout.”

Me: “… Okay, sure. Why not?”

Preppy 2: “Well, that’s great. But I’m still not buying a brown hanky.”

Preppy 1: “Ugh. FINE.” [then, to me] “I am very sorry we wasted your time.”

Me: [scribbling notes] “I promise you did not waste my time at all.”

And the funny thing is, orange actually means “anything, anytime, anywhere,” although there’s debate about placement: Some people maintain that orange on the right says, “just looking, not interested,” while others interpret it as, “bottom in any situation.” I myself fall into the latter camp, and as such, I truly hope these two can set aside their differences and reinforce the strained bonds of their friendship by getting pooped on together. I would happily provide them with matching cups to commemorate the event. And also maybe some baby wipes.

Circuit Breaker

Customer: “Those little electrical boxes you sell in your main store are great, but they need to have multiple switches, so that you can control more than one device at a time.”

Me: “Oh. Well, I appreciate the feedback.”

Customer: “Yeah. You’ve gotta crank it all the way up for your butt plug to get, like, BLAAAAARGH.” [He shakes violently for effect.] “But then it’s way too intense for your nipples. You know?”

Me: “…”

Customer: “But that’s just me. That’s just my opinion.”

An ex-boyfriend of mine used to work at Barnes and Noble, and he was always going on about the intimate nature of his job. He’d be like, “A woman came in today and bought a book on coping with divorce! Man, it can be pretty unnerving to learn so much about people when you’re just trying to help them.” While I hold no resentments over that particular relationship, it is nice to know that there’s no way in hell he could handle my life.