“Stop at this store, Konrad,” I said. “Let me get some potato chips before they close. Do you guys want anything?”
Konrad and Sherry both said, “No,” so I went on in to get my chips. One of our local drunks was at the counter with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
“I’m sorry but I cannot sell you that alcohol,” the store owner said.
“Why?”
“Because the last time I sold you a bottle of it you drank it and passed out in front of my store,” the shopkeeper said. “That stuff will kill you if you drink it. I don’t want you dying in front of my business.”
“Yes,” the drunk said, “but nobody is selling any beer or rum right now.”
“That’s because of the holidays,” the store owner said. “No alcohol is sold on the Easter holidays.”
The drunk left. I paid for my chips and left also as the store owner closed his shop. We drove three blocks and I remembered that I did not buy any sour cream to go with the chips.
“Konrad, go to that other store,” I said. “I forgot to buy sour cream and the store we just left was closing as we drove away.”
The little drunk had already made it to the next store ahead of me.
“Do you have any rubbing alcohol?” he asked.
“No, sir,” the store owner said.
“Let me have a bottle of that mouthwash on the shelf behind you,” the drunk said.
“Oh, no,” the owner said. “You’ll just drink it and get sick all over the front of my store.”
“That’s not true! I have my first date in two years and I want to make a good impression.”
“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” the shopkeeper said, as he handed the man a bottle of mouthwash.
The little drunk stared at the bottle for a few moments and then said, “Do you have one that’s been in the cooler?”
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