Showdown At The Okey-Dokey Corral
There's a impatient gentleman waiting behind me at the gas station. A second cashier just waiting for her medicare benefits to kick in walks up to the other cash register. The exchange is like a showdown in a saloon between two old cowboys. If the saloon is a BP gas station and the cowboys are aging clowns packing seltzer bottles and squirting flowers on their lapels.

Cashier: Sir, I can help you over here.
Customer: Nah, no one can help me, but you can check me out.
Cashier: Sorry sir, but management has asked me to stop checking men out while I'm working.

They slap leather, iron is exchanged, and when the smoke clears, the only victims are those that had to witness that horrible exchange of shaving cream pies. May I rest in peace.