Quinn’s birthday is coming up, so I went to the Dollar Store the other day to find some things to make the decorations. While I am standing in line with my friend looking at some lovely fake flowers, I hear a cough that can best be described as the sound of a Yeti fucking a Sasquatch.


When it began, my friend and I slowly stopped talking and slowly turned in the direction of the noise, which was coming from one aisle over. We stared at each other. The woman next to us stared at us. We stood, frozen, like we were all inside a horror movie.

I turned slowly back to the flowers and put some in the cart. “Yeah. So. I think we should probably go.”

I told my friend I had to go look for one more thing, then moved two aisles down. I was babbling to Quinn as I was looking for a hairbrush for her inch of hair when I heard the start of that lovely Yeti-Sasquatch foreplay right behind me. I just stopped and stared at the wall in front of me, not moving. When it was over, I continued my babbling to Quinn and said, “Well, I don’t think they have a brush for you, so I think we’re going to have to go, sweets.”

Behind me I hear the muttering: “Goddamn motherfucking asshole.”

Not sure if he was talking to me or about me, I decided it best to leave.

I grab my friend and get in the checkout line, ready to tell the cashiers that they have a crazy man loose in the store. Turns out the crazy man was already in line in front of me.


I watch them like I am watching an accident about to happen. I hear him muttering. I see him snatch his change back from the cashier. I see the cashier looking like she’s about to cut a bitch.

He leaves.

I get up to the counter, and the two cashiers look at each other like:


I say, “I was going to tell you I think there’s something not right about that guy, I –”

“Oh, there sure ain’t something right with him. He called me a bitch! He’s about to get his ass cussed out!”

I tell them my story about his Turret’s episode, and they say he’s come in before and has already been appropriately cussed.

Then my child proceeds to throw an epic tantrum because she couldn’t have the 8 balls that she picked up in the checkout aisle, and I had to arm wrestle her for all but one of them.