I don’t want to buy any china, but the sales clerk is cute, so I enter.
“Something for your girlfriend?” she asks.
“No girlfriend,” I say.
She makes a pouting face and replies, “Poor baby.”
She begins showing me figurines, and I feign interest because I like watching her.
Finally, I admit, “I don’t really want to buy anything.”
“Ahh,” she gasps, putting her palm against her chest. “You’ve broken my heart.”
She points to a sign that reads ‘You Break, You Buy.’
“Now you have to buy something.”
“Would lunch count?” I ask.
“I get off at 11:30,” she smiles.