General Fiction posted June 11, 2024 |
Embarrassment at the till.
Checking Out
by Terry Reilly
Hi.
Oh, it's you.
Let's see what you've got today.
Mmm. A bunch of red roses. That's not standard. Trying to curry favour with madame, are we? Have we been a naughty boy? Again.
The usual rubber goods from the Pharmacy section. I previously assumed they were for domestic consumption. In view of the roses, maybe not.
A bunch of ready meals. Pizzas, curries, cottage pies. That tells a tale. Preparing our own food this week, are we? Yup. Definitely in the doghouse.
Some "adult" magazines. Wow! We are in trouble, aren't we? Do you really dig that stuff?
What do they say? Any port in a storm.
Three six packs of beer. You're not normally a beer drinker. Oh, I get it. You're having the boys over for a boozy evening. That fits with the two new packs of playing cards. A poker school?
But, she wouldn't normally let you do that. Aaah! You've been dumped. She's flown the coop, leaving you in profound excrement! (We're programmed not to use foul language.)
A few paperbacks. That's an unusual addition to your trolley. Let's take a look. "Cooking for absolute beginners". "House cleaning for Dummies". "You, too, can learn how to iron your shirts".
The evidence is building. If this were a Court of Law you'd be Guilty as Charged.
And the local rag!? You never buy your community newspaper. It's open at the page with the Classified Ads. You've already highlighted one of them. Snatchet, Grabbitt and Runne, Specialist Divorce Lawyers.
Heh, Heh, Heh! Clunk!
Sorry about that. Unprofessional of me, I know, but I just had to laugh.
Four packs of paracetamol. I can't let you have those. Maximum one pack per visit.
In case people try to commit...
No! You're not planning to...Check Out. For Ever!
Checking You Out writing prompt entry
Hi.
Oh, it's you.
Let's see what you've got today.
Mmm. A bunch of red roses. That's not standard. Trying to curry favour with madame, are we? Have we been a naughty boy? Again.
The usual rubber goods from the Pharmacy section. I previously assumed they were for domestic consumption. In view of the roses, maybe not.
A bunch of ready meals. Pizzas, curries, cottage pies. That tells a tale. Preparing our own food this week, are we? Yup. Definitely in the doghouse.
Some "adult" magazines. Wow! We are in trouble, aren't we? Do you really dig that stuff?
What do they say? Any port in a storm.
Three six packs of beer. You're not normally a beer drinker. Oh, I get it. You're having the boys over for a boozy evening. That fits with the two new packs of playing cards. A poker school?
But, she wouldn't normally let you do that. Aaah! You've been dumped. She's flown the coop, leaving you in profound excrement! (We're programmed not to use foul language.)
A few paperbacks. That's an unusual addition to your trolley. Let's take a look. "Cooking for absolute beginners". "House cleaning for Dummies". "You, too, can learn how to iron your shirts".
The evidence is building. If this were a Court of Law you'd be Guilty as Charged.
And the local rag!? You never buy your community newspaper. It's open at the page with the Classified Ads. You've already highlighted one of them. Snatchet, Grabbitt and Runne, Specialist Divorce Lawyers.
Heh, Heh, Heh! Clunk!
Sorry about that. Unprofessional of me, I know, but I just had to laugh.
Four packs of paracetamol. I can't let you have those. Maximum one pack per visit.
In case people try to commit...
No! You're not planning to...Check Out. For Ever!
Oh, it's you.
Let's see what you've got today.
Mmm. A bunch of red roses. That's not standard. Trying to curry favour with madame, are we? Have we been a naughty boy? Again.
The usual rubber goods from the Pharmacy section. I previously assumed they were for domestic consumption. In view of the roses, maybe not.
A bunch of ready meals. Pizzas, curries, cottage pies. That tells a tale. Preparing our own food this week, are we? Yup. Definitely in the doghouse.
Some "adult" magazines. Wow! We are in trouble, aren't we? Do you really dig that stuff?
What do they say? Any port in a storm.
Three six packs of beer. You're not normally a beer drinker. Oh, I get it. You're having the boys over for a boozy evening. That fits with the two new packs of playing cards. A poker school?
But, she wouldn't normally let you do that. Aaah! You've been dumped. She's flown the coop, leaving you in profound excrement! (We're programmed not to use foul language.)
A few paperbacks. That's an unusual addition to your trolley. Let's take a look. "Cooking for absolute beginners". "House cleaning for Dummies". "You, too, can learn how to iron your shirts".
The evidence is building. If this were a Court of Law you'd be Guilty as Charged.
And the local rag!? You never buy your community newspaper. It's open at the page with the Classified Ads. You've already highlighted one of them. Snatchet, Grabbitt and Runne, Specialist Divorce Lawyers.
Heh, Heh, Heh! Clunk!
Sorry about that. Unprofessional of me, I know, but I just had to laugh.
Four packs of paracetamol. I can't let you have those. Maximum one pack per visit.
In case people try to commit...
No! You're not planning to...Check Out. For Ever!
Writing Prompt A sentient self-checkout register at a store makes assumptions about you and your life based on your purchases and feels the need to verbally share this with you. And you must now share the embarrassing/horrifying/romantic etc. commentary with us! Suggested word count 300 |
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