“I see Gatorade, Powerade, Snapple, Lipton, but I don’t see any Fruitopia. Can you check the back to see if you have any?”
“Sir, I’m not sure what that is.”
“Well, CLYDE, it says on your nametag that you’ve been proudly serving this community since 1989. How do you NOT know what Fruitopia is?? Strawberry Passion Awareness, The Grape Beyond, Beachside Blast? ARE YOU SERIOUS?”
“I’m sorry, we don’t carry that.”
The rage builds. I try to tip over the entire beverage aisle, but it doesn’t budge. “Help me push this shelf over, Clyde, it’s actually pretty heavy,” I grunt.
“Sir, I’m not going to help you destroy my grocery store. In fact, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I grab a bottle of Snapple iced tea and smash it violently at Clyde’s feet as tears begin to stream down my face. “Don’t you see? You are doing your part in tearing my childhood away from me! It’s gone, it’s all gone!”
Clyde is a caring man; he holds me against his apron as I sob. “There there, it’s okay, son,” he consoles me. “Now c’mon, I will show you where the Gushers are, and the gummy frogs, and the Funyuns, Corn Nuts, and Gobstoppers. It’s not all gone.”