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wearing full body armor.
    Status:
Unfortunately, not extinct.
    We eyed each other for what seemed an age. He was trying to smile, but it was more like a smirk. I don’t know what my expression looked like, but I suspect
glacial
might approximate. The frozen food section was generating more heat than me.
    “Hello, Calma,” he said finally.
    “What can I do for you, sir?” I said.
    His eyes flickered away and he gave a little wave with his hands, a pathetic gesture of helplessness. He tried the smile again.
    “Is that all you can say to me?”
    “I’m working, sir. If you need help to find products, then I am employed to assist. If not, I must ask that you allow me to return to my task.”
    He ran a hand through his thin hair, unconsciously smoothing a few errant strands over his bald patch.
    “Aw, come on, Calma. Give me a break. I just need a few words. That’s all. Is that too much to ask? A few words with my own daughter?” He put his hand on my arm and my flesh shrank from his touch.
    “Please remove your hand, sir, or I will be forced to call security.”
    He let me go and even took a step backward. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Candy standing at the end of the aisle, watching.
    “Perhaps we could talk when you’ve finished your shift?” he said. “Please, Calma.”
    “I don’t finish work until five in the morning,” I lied. “And then I have to get straight back to my family. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
    I don’t expect you to believe me, but what happened next was a complete accident. I grabbed the rear rail of the cart and swung it around. My intention was to glide effortlessly back into the bowels of the warehouse section. But the front wheel had other ideas. Instead of executing a perfect arc, the cart juddered and slammed into my father’s groin. The sharp metal edge of the front rail landed, with sickening accuracy, on the family jewels. A fleeting, disbelieving look passed over my father’s face and then he doubled up, emitting a high-pitched scream. I have no idea, obviously, what it is like to have your testicles propelled into your throat, but I can’t imagine it’s very pleasant. Certainly the writhing, groaning form in front of me didn’t appear to be having the time of its life. All color flooded from his face and he groped, in a kind of shutting-the-stable-door-after-the-horse-has-bolted fashion, at his nether regions.
    For a moment I felt sorry for him. It quickly passed.
    “If you have damaged this cart, sir, you may have to pay compensation,” I said.
    He didn’t say anything—the act of getting air into his lungs was proving difficult enough. Anyway, Candy had suddenly appeared next to us, a look of alarm on her face. She had stopped chewing and I worried that the shock of seeing one of her customers felled like an ox might cause the gum to get stuck in her windpipe. I’m not sure if I could have coped with two people writhing on the ground.
    My father eventually stopped behaving like a gaffed fish and brushed aside Candy’s expressions of concern. He assured her it was entirely his fault and I was in no way responsible. Finally he limped out of the store, maybe to take up a new career as a soprano. I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care.
    Candy was reluctant to accept my explanation of the incident—a deranged customer, with premeditation and malice, hurled his testicles against my cart. But there wasn’t much she could do. After all, the customer had accepted responsibility.
    I tell you, between the condom-buying granny and the do-it-yourself attempt at circumcision, I was having the time of my life. And things got a whole lot better when I took my break.
     
    I don’t know why I went outside. Maybe it was because the Crazi-Cheep staff room was another example of cost-cutting measures. I’ve seen better-appointed fridges at the local dump. Anyway, a breath of fresh air never goes amiss.
    Jason was standing at the corner of the building having a