There is a smallish pet store near our house where we occassionally buy crickets. Most of the time we avoid them because The Cricket Nazi works there. The one who counts every little morsel going into the bag because god-forbid our leopard gecko gets so much as a bonus drumstick. (and never mind the crickets that escaped the tank and are crawling on the floor behind the counter)
Tonight the geckos were in need so Hubbin said get 18. 1 dozen for Dre and 1/2 dozen for little dude (the new gargoyle gecko). Tonight The Cricket Nazi wasn’t working and it was a girl
I’ve never seen before.
Conversation at petstore as follows:
SSFB: could I have 18 large crickets please?
Clerk: we sell them by the dozen
SSFB: okay… I’ll take two dozen then
Clerk: I can sell you 1 and a half dozen?
SSFB: *blinks* that’s 18.
She looked down and grumbled something I didn’t understand in response.