He and Mother were at Walgreens, standing in line for what seemed to be hours. He was excited, as the toy he had come inside to purchase was on sale--he would be getting two. Mother, meanwhile, had picked out a magazine--Sister was away on spring break, so she would treat herself. After the people in front of them had spent about ten minutes trying to purchase a single item, an employee wondered over from elsewhere in the store.
"I can help you in make-up," she said.
Despite his reluctance to leave the safety of the check-out line right next to the door, and partially out of the principle of the thing, he eventually followed Mother and the stranger half-way across the store to the little makeup desk.
They rang up, and he was shocked to see the charge that was about to be laid upon his card. "How much was that magazine?!" Answer: $7.99. "$7.99 for a magazine? It's basically waxy toilet paper!"
The employee bagged up the purchase and passed it to him. She gave him a deep, dark, serial-killer glare. "There's your waxy toilet paper."
He picked up the bag and, without another word, left.
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