credit card machine: *doesn’t work and it is no fault of mine. like there’s no error on my part involved for why this is happening*
me: oh, i’m s—
customer, eyes boring unblinkingly into mine, hand that’s gripping the counter slowly starting to grow talons: am i being charged? is this going to charge me? if you run it again and it shows up on my statement will you give me your heart on a platter? your firstborn child?