A big tattooed guy (well, smaller than me) was working the counter at the shop. New guy there. Arms covered in a mess of ill planned ink, much looking like stereotypical prison ink. He was talking with some gal sporting Bettie Page hair about a friend getting new boobs for Christmas. "Everybody agrees she has saggy, flappy boobs." And he was playing the Dead Milkmen, Big Lizard in my Backyard over the store stereo. And he was realy nice and apologized seemingly quite sincerely for me having to wait while he rung up a couple of other people.
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