The clerk stared at me as I dropped my purchases on the counter. I said, “Get on with it. None of your damn business.”
As he rang up my items, he averted his eyes. He started to perspire, his hands shook, and he was hyperventilating.
Despite his discomfort he rang the disinfectant, gauze, and Band-Aids well enough. His delicate two-fingered grab of the tampon package caused a scarlet embarrassment to creep up from his collar. My package of calf brains made him gag.
I laughed later as I munched my dinner. The poor kid had clearly never waited on a Zombie.