In 1927…

I opened at work this morning. I usually work nights on Saturdays and I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. I was a little spacey at work. The first customer of the day was an older lady who had been waiting in the parking lot for 10-15 minutes before the doors even opened. She came in, wandered around for a few minutes and came up to the front to check out. There’s just me and a cashier in the morning and she had went to the back to put her purse in her locker. Being in a supervisory capacity, I don’t cashier very often. When I do, it’s usually interesting.

This lady puts her bed pillow up on the counter and starts making small talk. Her arthritis is acting up. It’s cold. And then she lets loose with the following amazing factoid (which sounds kind of made up) that I had to write down:

In 1927.

(pen and watercolor on bristol board in case anyone’s wondering)


2 responses to “In 1927…

  1. Perhaps she’s mistaken her childhood self for a stray possum baby.

    (Great post, BTW.)

  2. I can’t wait until I’m old and able to get away saying things like this. She should get that pinky finger looked at.

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