Monday, August 11, 2008

Tar-zhay


On my latest trek to the great Target, I had to purchase some Robitussin DM for my dogs' hacking. I found the smallest generic tussin dm for the dogs, and decided to bee-line it to the register as that store is filled with temptations that I am too weak to fight. At the register, my cashier scanned the cough syrup, and a strange warning started flashing where the price should have appeared. For a split second, I thought, "Finally, I win!" But, no, and the cashier asked me for ID. And, of course, the one time I actually leave my ID in my car, someone at Target would ask me for it. (I cursed Bally's under my breath for insisting on looking at my license to reissue me my lost membership card.) So, I asked if she thought I was really under 18 or if she could just let it slide. And she looked at me with a straight face, and said, very rehearsed, "Maam, while it is highly unlikely, you could be buying this tussin dm to make methamphetamine with it. So I need to scan your ID so it's on record where and when you bought this." 

Maam? Guess I don't look under 18. Also, I thought this was Target, not fricken Walmart, ya'll!

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