Are you trying to tell me I look like sh!t?

The following is a conversation I had earlier this week with an overly-friendly cashier at Publix:

Girl at Publix: "Aww honey, are you ok? You look like you don't feel good."

Me: "I haven't kept any food down since Sunday (true), I just threw up all over the parking lot (true), I have a hemorrhoid the size of a golf ball (false, but funny to say), and my baby daddy left me for a cross dressing man named Spike (also false)."

Girl: "I think we have some preparation H on clearance."

Well done, girl, well done. How many people could keep their customer service skills in check after that? She deserves a raise for having to deal with people like me.