I picked up Wendy's last night since I suck at cooking.
"Can I get some ketchup?" I asked the cashier.
"Can I see some ID?" He replied.
I was instantly confused, my mind started racing. Wait, where was I? No, there's no beer at Wendy's, am I in trouble? No, he's not the boss of me, what is going on here? Fuck this. Do I have ketchup at home? I stared at him blankly while I worked all of this out.
"I'm kidding," he said, with a slightly skeptical, you're-a-real-fucking-weirdo kind of look on his face.
"Ha ha...ha. Phew. Sorry about that, it's a little late for jokes."
It was 6 p.m.
Another one of my finest moments.