Setting: at the gas station convenience store. I’m about to purchase a comically large bag of sour patch kids for a boardgame party. There are two early twenty-something aged cashiers, one man and one woman.
Woman: Ok, $6.53
(I’m putting my credit card away by flipping my wallet open)
Man: Why are you holding a scooter?
(His eyes are locked on the red Razor in my left hand, when I tilt toward him, his eyes swivel.)
Me: Because I ride it
Him: Did you ride it here?
Me: In the parking lot
Him: That’s so cool!
Me: Want me to assemble it?
Him: Will you ride it in the store?
Me: I figured I would get in trouble, but sure!
(I squeeze the latch lock to drop the ride platform and loose the handlebars’ collar compression fixture.)
Me: Actually, would you like to ride it instead?
(His swiveling head reaches its goal in under three seconds, I hand him the scooter. He rides past the beverage aisle.)
Him: So smooth…
Me: One of the best tag sale purchases I’ve ever made: $5
(He hands in back to me.)
Him: Thanks
Me: You’re welcome
(I mount, then shove out the push door.) Me: Bye!
Shaving with my Razor