When I was sixteen and a clerk at Ukrop's I had the following conversation with Kevin Lanham-- manager, Christian songwriter, and tormenter of bestselling lesbian mystery novelists:
"Bubba, can we talk a minute?" (Kevin called me Bubba, which I hated but didn't know how to deal with.)
"Sure Kev, what's the rhubarb?" (I actually said "Yes Kevin, what's going on?" but rhubarb is funny to me.)
We walked to his office, where Kevin decided to open with, "I hope you know that if you have any problems my door is open to you."
"Well gee Kevin, that's good to know, but I can't think of anything. Unless you want to pay me a little more, har har har!"
"Yes, well Andrew, I just had a call from a customer."
"Hmm." I said, nervous that I might know what was coming.
"Yes, it seems that when asked how your day was going you told a customer that, and I am quoting her, 'He said he wanted to blow up the store.'"
"That's not really accurate at all, Kevin. She asked how I liked working for Ukrop's, and I said, 'Let's just say if you pick up the paper tomorrow and it says-- "Grocery Clerk goes Berserk; Dozens injured in suicide bombing!"-- that'll be me.' But I was obviously joking. I had a twinkle in my eye the whole time."
"Maybe she mistook the twinkle for the frenzied look of insanity. "
I remembered the customer laughing heartily, but decided that it wasn't a good idea to argue.
"I'm very sorry, I was trying to be funny, but I guess that was in poor taste."
"Yes, Bubba it was. I like to joke too, you know I do, but jokes like that, well, they scare people. You're sure you don't have some things you'd like to talk about?"
"No Kevin, just a lack of common sense and a taste for dark humor."
"I'll say. Alright, well you just rein in the humor, leave the suicide-bombin' to the towelheads, and we'll make like this didn't happen. Have a blessed day."
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