So I'm at the grocery store buying five turkeys for our Young Women Thanksgiving service project, and the cashier's (who, important for the story is probably 17 or 18) like "woah!" and we end up having a playfully bantering conversation. An hour later I'm back at the same store in the same line with the same cashier, and we exchange further banter, and then I notice him slipping a paper into my bag, and all I can tell from a distance is that there's a handwritten name and a phone number on it. But I'm like, "Oh yeah! I've still got it!"
And then I get home, and the phone number is actually for the grocery store's events planning department and it's on the back of a flyer for its catering department. Which, when you think about it, makes much more sense than a 17 year old giving me his number after some lame turkey banter, but was still kind of disappointing.
The End.
1 comments:
Jules! This is the best story I've heard all day. Don't worry, you've still got it even if the 17 year old doesn't get it. :)
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