(An intensely inebriated individual entered our store with two women in tow, one pushing a baby carriage, wearing a jordan jersey, sunglasses, and sporting gold fronts.)
Customer: “CRACKAS STINK! THIS STORE STINKS! CRACKA STORE STINKS!”
Me: *falls over laughing*
Customer: “GOOD LORD IT STINKS! SHE GOT PURPLE HAIR, I BET IT STINKS!”
Women with him: “Shut up! Shut up! I’m sorry, he doesn’t–SHUT UP! ”
Me: *rolls around with glee*
Customer: “STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”
(And from then on I am known as stinky hair.)
