Ode to the dude at my 7-11

The dude at my 7-Eleven always asks stupid questions about whatever I’m buying. For example the other day I picked up a fuckload of mac and cheese because I'm Canadian and depressed and while I was paying for it he said, quote:

“So, how much macaroni you gonna to make?”

I don’t know, sir, maybe something like a fuckload? Aside from it not really being the guy’s business, that’s just the stupidest question he could have possibly asked. I guess I could go and buy more macaroni at another store, or maybe I already had some at home, but I’m reasonably certain that he was asking about the shit I was buying from him then. Yeah I'm going to eat ALL OF IT, IT'S FOR ME, MINE ALL MINE

I didn’t know how to answer him without being a dick about it so I just smiled.

“Like a lot of macaroni I bet. Right?”

Perhaps we should weigh it? I don’t have the equipment at home so how about we meet up after your shift and take the macaroni over to your place to conduct some science? While I’m eating you can weigh your face, and then I’ll shit in your mouth and we’ll see what the difference is.

He doesn’t always ask questions, sometimes he just makes a comment about the product you're buying. He once commented that my Slurpee was “really big,” because I guess he had never seen anybody buy that size before. I know for sure he’s never been close enough to the Slurpee machines to clean them so it’s possible that he hasn’t noticed the cups. But like dude, you sell the size, it's not that surprising.

The point I’m trying to make here is that I want diarrhea and I'm waiting until his shift is over.