The Fabric Store

Today, as a way of putting off the work I should have been doing, I ran to the fabric store to get some embroidery floss. The man at the counter had what might have been a Russian accent and was pleased to talk about threads and fabric and places you could go that had even better threads and fabric. When the phone at the counter rang, he answered and began to talk to someone who wanted to know the name of the store across the street. He turned to look out the window. "Sorry. There's a big truck in the way. I can't see the store you're talking about." He looked at me and rolled his eyes. Then he continued, "I'm sorry, being how it's cold outside and that I'm working, I'm going to have to charge you to go outside, cross the street and write down the name of the store." I could hear that the voice on the line became raised. The man hung up and told me that I owed nine dollars for the floss and that if I laughed at one more thing he did, he would charge me for entertainment.