When after I enter my club card number at the grocery store check out keypad/thingomajjer, the cashiers says out loud ''Thank you for shopping with us, Mr. ŨĴ''.
Huh? I think to myself...Do I know you from somewhere? ...meanwhile, the big biker guy who happens to be in line one checkstand over hears your name (thanks to the courtesy of the cashier) which sounds vaguely familiar as he thinks to himself.... hey, I know a "ŨĴ" guy... and I've been wanting to kill him for the last 20 years!!! Fucker stole my dope!
Then, the cashier asks you if you want help out to the car with your two 8lb bags of groceries, it never fails
... and you say, ''Sure, I'll accept help out to the car'', thinking...I might need booth hands to deal with this biker guy who's giving me the death stare for some odd reason.