I had probably the creepiest customers ever last night.
They pushed up a flatbed with something like 12 bags of rocks, a roll of black plastic, straight edgers, a shovel and a rake. Nothing out of the ordinary until the husband spoke. He mentioned they were finishing a burial plot….
Right…so I smirked at the joke and went about my way, but as he and his wife continued chatting, I realized they were not, in the least little bit, joking. Not only that, but by their conversation, and the bulk of what they were buying, I discerned that there was no way they were burying the family pet.
I mean come on! I’m sure there’s a really logical explanation, ya know– not enough individual health insurance to pay all the doctor bills from before–something as simple as that, but seriously, if you feel the need to share such a macabre tale with your cashier, might you offer up a disclaimer so she doesn’t feel the need to check the missing persons bulletins?
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