It was an unusually quiet day in the store. So quiet, I actually had time to finish the crossword in the newspaper without a single disturbance. I suppose money is tight nowadays. But even the reliable window shoppers hadn't turned up. I was considering closing up early when the bell above the door tinkled. Finally, a customer.
"Hey! I've got a bone to pick with you!"
I frowned. A customer. There goes my quiet afternoon... I turned around to see a stout man with a round, bearded face striding towards me with a sour expression. "Ah, Mr. Grant," I chimed pleasantly. "How lovely it is to see you again." The man paused mid-stride, clearly surprised that I remembered him. But it's my job to remember every single person that enters through those doors, regardless of current appearances. It still gave me a smug feeling every time, however. I asked him, "What appears to be the problem."
Grant snapped out of his stupor, and grunted. "Isn't it obvious? Look at me!" He waved his hands up and down his bulky body.
"Yes, you're a man now, just like you wanted." Grant was a young lad the previous day, just on the cusp of pubescence. Like many of the youths who enter the shop, he was desperate for a means to grow up, to become an adult. And like many of them, I had exactly the means to do so. In Grant's case, I had a box of aging cream I was just about to throw away before he turned up. I thought it was luck, although it appears things have turned sour... I switched tactics, and said with a sly wink, "And might I add, you've grown into quite the handsome gentleman."
"Shut up!" He growled, slamming a carrier bag down onto the counter with a sharp thud. So much for sweet talk. "I'm not handsome, I'm old! This isn't what I wanted at all! I want a refund."
