"Do you have any oil balls?"

On Sunday night someone tried to sell me a washing machine. The line was about 4 people deep and he announced to everyone that he had a washing machine. Then later he tried to sell me an aquarium. He was wearing a slipknot shirt and a starter jacket. T

A coworker of mine from Fairfield (which is a story in of itself) told me that a lot of the houses in the countryside around him are routinely robbed of copper. Give some methheads two hours and there won't be a single copper penny left in the joint - they'll even neglect to rob cash and jewels like traditional burglars. No, only copper. The same coworker from Fairfield had a friend who built a life-size, fully-operational Roman ballista for a 4-H project.

Sometime a few years back someone came into the wine department asking if we sold any "oil balls." When asked what that was, he said that "it was like an oil pipe, except it was a ball."

People sometimes slam a thirty pack of Lacrosse Light onto the counter, and then immediately say "I'M SO EMBARRASSED TO BUY THIS," or, "I SWEAR IT'S NOT FOR ME," or "DON'T JUDGE ME." No, there is no reason to be embarrassed. You are buying beer. We work in a liquor store and are not judging you. We will judge you when you ask to buy an "oil ball;" we will judge you when you come into the store scratching your arm asking if we sell cigars in glass tubes; we will judge you when you defecate in front of a steak display; we will judge you if you get a blowjob on a dirty used kig sitting the alley; we will judge you if you pee on the dumbwaiter; we will judge you if you bleed hepatitis-c tainted blood onto a bag of potato chips, but we will not judge you for liking Lacrosse Light. Seriously dude, you're cool. Have a great evening bro.