Overheard

I stopped at our local gas station the other morning on the way to work. One of the cashiers has worked there for quite some time now. He appears to be in his 80s, thin and bearded, with notably long, long fingernails. Time dawdles at its own pace when he is on shift. When I entered the store, I noticed he had physically cornered the other cashier, a young woman of probably 19, with long dyed red hair. He was animatedly telling her a story of some sort, it seemed. She was unsmiling, and her eyes were shifting around almost frantically, desperate to be released from his attention. She was looking for something, anything, any excuse to flee. I wondered what could possibly be so awful that he was telling her. I stepped up to the counter with my items, and he turned to check me out. As he did so I could hear the last trailing line of his tale...

"And I haven't had stuffed peppers since!"

I knew better than to ask, but I would have loved to have heard the start of THAT story.