Cashier: These little t-shirts are cute! Who are they for?
Me: Oh, uh . . . my . . . uh . . . my baby. They're for my baby.
Cashier: Boy or girl?
Me: Boy.
Cashier: Wonderful! And how old is he?
Me: He's fou--uh . . . [looks at tag on shirt] he's eight to ten months.
Cashier: Hard to keep track, isn't it! Especially when you aren't getting much sleep!
Me: He actually sleeps through the night pretty well.
Cashier: Terrific! How's his appetite? At that age they can become so finnicky.
Me: Fine. He's pretty much eats the same thing for every meal.
Cashier: Is he crawling yet?
Me: He never really crawled. Just went straight to walking. Running, really.
Cashier: What?
Me: I mean, maybe he crawled at some point. I bought him from a lady between aisles at a store and he was already a few months old by then.
Cashier: You . . . excuse me?
Me: Yup. Rescued him from an abusive situation on a horse farm. He smelled like horse shit. Had to bathe him five times to get the stench off!
Cashier: I . . . uh . . .
Me: I can't do this anymore. These are for my dog. I'm buying these clothes for my dog. I'm going to turn this white t-shirt into a ghost costume for Halloween. The rest of these are for lounging around the house.
Cashier: Thank God.
Me: I didn't want to have to admit that this was the reason I was in a baby clothing boutique store on a Sunday morning at 10:30. I mean, who the hell have I become? This is pathetic, right? I'm pathetic. I need an intervention. I have spent literally hundreds of dollars on clothes for an 18-pound poodle mix. And he doesn't even like them. Because he's a dog. Am I being abusive by continuing to buy this crap for him and dress him up? Should he be rescued from me? You probably want to call the animal abuse people at this point. And I don't blame you. Here you are, in the middle of a pandemic, showing up for your job where you expected to just help desperate people in need and here I am, a mildly attractive 36 year old man, buying a pile of clothes for a dog who doesn't even want to wear them.
Cashier: . . .
Me: . . .
Cashier: . . .
Me: . . .
Cashier: Could you text me pictures of the ghost costume when it's don--
Me: Absolutely.
🎶 “I love you, I love you, I loooove you.” 🎶
ReplyDeleteI love keeping strange things. I have a mummified cat, taxidermy bat, I used to have a cow eyeball, and I have a slide of human lung tissue. So I get why she would want to keep her apendix.
ReplyDeleteI kept a gall stone from my gall bladder removed. It was really pretty and very smooth. It broke open a couple years after and it was like a totally black geode.
Right now, the world needs dogs in clothes. Thank you for your public service.—mimihalley
ReplyDeleteUmmmm.... Will you text ME when the ghost costume is done?!
ReplyDeleteHopefully we'll have another costume roundup post!
DeleteI'm a physician, and you can't afford my consultation fees but you need a physician referral before you talk about anything medical on the podcast. The tuberculosis discussion hurt.
ReplyDeleteWell, duh.
DeleteHilarious! Only you...
ReplyDeleteXOXOXOXO
Hilarious! Only you...
ReplyDeleteXOXOXOXO
I bet that podcast really brought back memories for you. Those you’d like to forget. As I listened to it, a flood off emotions and memories came to me. I remember How stresses out your mom and I were when President West called the house to tell us that you were in the hospital. Mom still has the scrap paper she used to take copious notess off everything he told her. Glad those days are behind us.
ReplyDeleteGREAT PODCAST!! Worse experience ever! Sounded a lot like yours! Happy you both survived. Very well told! Would listen to it again.XOXOXO
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness! Don't forget to post the pics of the Latvian hospital! So curious.
ReplyDeleteWe shared them on our Instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/strangervillepodcast/
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