Narcissism Knows No Age

[dropcap]I[/dropcap] could tell the cashier was getting rather flustered with the grumpy gentleman ahead of me.

“You overcharged me.” The older man pointed at his receipt. “This is out-damn-rageous.”

“Sir,” the cashier said. “I didn’t overcharge you. It’s not buy one get one free this week.”

The man scratched his head and looked back at me.

“Hey,” he wagged his finger at me. “Are you taking a picture of me?”

I ducked my head down, and pretended to type on my phone with my thumbs.

He bored his brown eyes into me.

“Show me.” He slid his reading glasses on. “Go on now, show me the picture.”

I held my phone up to him, swiping my finger on the screen, scrolling the photos I’d snapped of him.

“Hold on, stop,” he said. “That one, delete that one.”

I nodded.

“Here’s my card. Text me the others.” He said.

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