Tonight I whipped in a take-out place to grab dinner so I could get some work done in my hotel room. The kid ringing up my order had a total Justin Bieber haircut (old school, not current) and appeared to be about two months older than the legal employment age (16.2?).
After I ordered a personal pizza, he said, “Would you like some bread and butter with that?”
I shook my head. He said, “Right? Isn’t that the most awkward thing to ask? Like – dude – you just ordered a pizza. Do you want some MORE bread with that?”
I agreed. “Exactly. Do you want some carbs to go with your carbs? No? Then how ’bout just a side of carbs?”
We were cracking up and for a split second I forgot our twenty year age difference and was willing to consider him a peer.
That is, until he took my credit card and said, “Whoa. This card is really funky. What kind is it?”
“Ann Taylor Loft,” I replied.
He nodded. “I know that store…”
Then, after a pause, he added, “Yeah. My mom shops there.”
…And… Scene…
Thanks, kid. Now go buy yourself some Noxema and finish your homework.
pithypants 