No one ever said I want to be a stocker when I grow up part III

If my life got any worse I'd be the non-human, cyborg, soulless owner of the Sparkle Market. That's right, I just returned from the bottomless pits of despair called my job. I've decided to keep this 'news letter' going because I have no life and I feel I need to spread the horror of this establishment to warn future customers.

I don't have much to write today, except one, disgustingly vile story. It all begins when a lady and her daughter enter my checkout line...

I ring up all her groceries and she hands me a check. While I'm processing her check she turns to her daughter and exclaims, "Hey, rub my back would ya?" Her daughter consents and begins clawing her hands on the mother's hind. And to my repulsion the fat woman states, "Aaaahhh, that feels really good! I think my back is peeling. Maybe I've got some sort of rash or blisters."

I almost vomited on her bananas...