“I notice you go to the supermarket every morning at 8:30,” Dennisito said. “Why is that?”
I was in the U.S. visiting Dennis Jr. for a while. I had already been there for four days.
“That’s when their bakery puts out the fresh Danish pastries. I love those things and I can’t get them in Belize.”
In the supermarket checkout line I was behind a little old lady who was there every day at the same time as me. She was buying three cans of cat food.
“Ma’am,” the cashier said. “Do you have a cat?”
“Of course I do. What business is it of yours?”
“According to the state government a lot of old people buy cat food to eat because it is cheap. I can’t sell you this cat food unless you can prove you have a cat. It’s the law.”
The next morning the little old lady showed up with a cat under her arm.
“I see you have a cat,” the cashier said, “so I can sell you the cat food. But I also see you have two cans of dog food. Can you prove that you have a dog?”
The next day the old lady came in with her dog and paid for her dog food.
I was in line behind her the following day when she put a box on the counter with a small hole in the top of it.
“What’s in the box, ma’am?’ the cashier asked.
“Will you put your finger in the hole on top?” the old lady asked.
“Oh, no! You might have a snake in there.”
“There is nothing alive in the box. It’s something my husband sent to you.”
The cashier dug her finger into the box and pulled it out.
She said, “E-e-e-w! That smells like human waste!”
“It is. My husband sent me to buy three rolls of toilet paper.”
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