Customer: [pointing to a bottle of Rush] “May I see that yellow bottle, please?”
Me: “Sure.” [I hand him the bottle.]
Customer: “Hmm. No. This has a red top. I need the Rush with the black top.”
Me: “I’m afraid the only Rush we carry has a red top.”
Customer: “The Rush with the red top doesn’t work for me. I bought a bottle over at that sex store…” [waves hand vaguely to the Southwest]
Customer: “Yes! Hollywood. It was like water. I’m going to go back and demand a refund and throw it in their face!”
Customer: “Yeah, okay, I’m not going to do that. But I bought a yellow bottle with a black top at the bathhouse the other day, and it worked really well.”
Me: “Oh! That’s Pig Sweat. Yellow bottle, black top.”
Customer: “No. It was Rush.”
Me: “Well, like I said, we don’t carry Rush with a black top, but…”
Customer: “I need to invent little disposable, one-use solvents and sell them for like $8 each.”
Me: “That would certainly fill a niche.”
Customer: “I buy three bottles a week at least. It would be a lot more convenient to just have the little one-shots. Because I’m at the bathhouse every night, and I go through a lot of poppers.”
Customer: “Solvents. Hundreds. There are hundreds of bottles around my house, just from this month alone!”
If he’s not exaggerating about how much he consumes in a week, there should really only be like twelve bottles around his house (minus however many he loses at the bathhouse). So if he’s seeing hundreds, then either he’s turning into a human fly, or his friends and family need to get about the business of staging the world’s first solvent intervention.
Unless the solvents are what’re turning him into a human fly, in which case his friends and family should just lock their windows and not leave any raw meat laying out.