Did That Really Happen, v. 3.0

I have to share this with you. It's too weird and freaky and hilarious to keep to myself.

Today, as you Americans might know, was Father's Day here in the U.S. I'd hoped that would mean we'd have a quiet day at the store, but much to my half-hearted dismay, it meant the opposite. Business was booming. Dads were buying themselves fancy-pants luggage. Children looked bored. Wives looked a little guilty. Possibly the most bad-ass recent high school graduate ever, my friend and coworker Kathryn, left work a little early so she could attend her own family graduation party and pack. Because she's moving to Brazil for the summer in nine hours. So it was just me and Amy keeping the consumer masses at bay. I try to be patient. I try to be open. I try not to be a Judgy Judy, but I almost lost my shit this afternoon.

A fairly normal-looking 60 year old (approximately, of course) approached me with a question. Two, actually.

1. "Do you sell sunglass cases?" Answer: No.
2. "Do you have books on survival?"

me: Uhhh... survival?
lady: Survival.
me: Survival... of what?
lady: You know. Survival.
me: Are you looking for a book that discusses first-aid techniques? Like, in the wilderness? Or the Arctic? Or in sub-Saharan Africa? Extreme survival techniques?
lady: No. Like, if there's a holocaust.
me: [STUNNED SILENCE]
lady: Like, if there's a holocaust. Here, like in Pasadena. You know, if the electricity goes out, and they shut off the water or poison the supply, and the supermarkets are shut, and the banks fail.
me: [STUNNED SILENCE]
me: I don't think we have anything like that... Sorry.
lady: oh, well, you should get some.
me: [awkward grimace]

can I say this again:

what. the. fuck.

if you're going to research how to survive an Armageddon, you should probably refer to it with proper nomenclature.

In other news, I officially "got old" on Friday and threw out my back entirely. Picking up two bags of cat food and a grocery basket at Trader Joe's. And when I say "threw out my back," I don't mean a cute little twinge of freaky random pain. I mean inability to stand up and two pinched nerves. One step closer to Bingo nights and Early Bird specials... boo.