This professor, you must understand, is a child of decisions.
I know what a decision is and what a decision is not; I know how to make decisions and I know when I’m just pretending to make decisions; and I only make decisions sometimes.
And that is why this professor was struggling with this decision.
It was a hard one, after all.
I was here:
Now, I was having the most dadblamery of a time choosing between two suckers.
The cherry sucker or the lemon sucker.
It’s commonly said, don’t you know, that the true sucker is the sucker who can’t choose between two suckers.
So, this professor was just like the suckers. Only I hope I was cherry, for sure.
With a final roar–it’s always good to roar when you decide things–I chose the cherry sucker.
With that, I went to the register.
“I’ll have this cherry sucker,” I said.
Now, the fellow at the register was a teenager, I’d say. But a tall, lanky one, too.
“What?” he said, sounding a bit surprised. “That’s all you want? Really?”
“For sure,” I answered. “There are enough calories here to keep a pregnant moose on top of things for a few months.”
He made an odd face at me.
“Fine,” he said. “That’ll be $5.”
“$5?” I said.
Now, here’s the thing, I was a bit incredulous at this point.
He nodded. “Yep. We’ve got a store policy: If you only buy an item worth $0.05, we have to multiply that total by 100 to get the new price. It doesn’t make sense for us to do it the other way, see, dude.”
“How dreadfully unwonderful,” I answered. “Then I’ve decided I don’t want your sucker, madam.”
And I left.
With the sucker, of course.