You work at Spencer's—it's as simple as that. It's not a relatively hard job, just scanning people's items and checking them out, but some people seriously buy the weirdest things.

You know you're in for an interesting encounter as you watch people wander to the back of the store. It's nothing new, but it's still funny as hell sometimes.

Still, you don't judge your customers. They're the one's funding your paycheck, after all.

As usual, you were standing behind the checkout counter on a Tuesday evening, your eyes on your phone when you aren't talking with coworkers.

You're scrolling through your phone as you see someone enter the store in your peripheral vision—a man in a black hoodie and sweatpants, face concealed by the tufts of periwinkle hair framing his face beneath his hood, eyeing the T-shirt wall, his covered eyes seemingly darting from the shirts to the back of the store.