Dear pimply-face bag boys at Mt. P grocery store, Please stop flirting with me. I’m 10 years older than you. Please stop your pathetic attempt at witty banter involving your high school teachers and just scan and bag my groceries. Please don’t comment on everything I buy. Of course you haven’t tried that brand of prosecco, you’re not even old enough to sneak alcohol. Please don’t ask me if I’m having a bad day if I don’t giggle at you like your little high school girlfriends do. From now on I’m sticking to old ladies in line.


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