Today's adventure is a short one, but a sweet one. I am on the front line, minding my own business, and checking people out of the store. Lo and behold, my next pidgeon meanders into my grasp, and before I knew it, I had a TPS Report.
He was not the usual suspect. Older gentleman who was soft spoken for the most part. As it turned out, he was actually quite old. Over 80 even. He was also fairly pleasant, but as we all well know, that does not excuse you for being retarded.
I ring up all two of his items and give him his total. He then swipes his card (on the third try) and after we go through all the motions, it asks him to sign on the line. Now, normally, this wouldn't be too difficult, but Old Man Winter (OMW) is having a hard time understanding how his signature is going to disappear once its put on the monitor.
I hand OMW the electronic pen that comes attached to the machine. (Imagine that, it does serve a purpose!) He then proceeds to write his name normally, and he pushes done.
I honestly should have seen this coming, but I was totally dumbfounded. You see, after he signs his name, he then takes the electronic pen and tries to write the total in his checkbook. After a few frustrating moments, he looks up and asks "Why won't this pen produce ink?"
Really? I mean...really? Did you really just ask me that? I mean, what do you say to that? Sorry dipshit, ink and electronics don't mix? I can't be rude to him, and he was nice enough I don't want to be mean to him, but what do you say? I just mumbled something along the lines of "no" and let it go. I really was at a loss for words.
And while we are on the subject, who talks like that anyways? Since when does a pen produce ink? I mean, the writing utensil doesn't generate its own ink or lead. Its put in there prior to purchase. I mean, does a clock produce time? Sometimes, I think this type of sentence would work. You know, like, I need to go produce urine. But in this case, I think he got it flat wrong. Sorry OMW, looks like you will have to try and produce a brain on your own.
-Deimos
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Hey! Lay off old guys. We're usually polite, fart in aisles occupied by young whippersnappers and then scold them for gassing in public and we rarely have coupons. And why was your pen unable to produce ink? Sheesh.
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