Eight is less than Ten

People are losing their freaking minds. I go to the store and manage to score a dozen eggs, some chicken, and yogurt. Bonus find - a couple of pairs of shoe laces and a set of fake mustaches off the clearance rack! I look over and realize the lines are crazy long at most of the registers, but lines for wine and beer are empty. Nothing to do but grab a box of wine and head to the check-out. I ask the cashier if it's OK to check-out everything here and he says, "Sure, as long as you have 10 items or less."
A guy comes over behind me, plunks down his 2 cans of Coors and says loudly, "You can check out all that stuff here?!"
"Yup, says I, "As long as it's no more than 10 items."
"Harumph," he harumphs. "You sure that's only 10?"
"I'm sure," I say counting again to be sure.
As I'm picking up my bags, he asks the cashier, "How many things did she have? Can you see it on there?"
"No," says the poor kid, just wanting to do his job.
Oh for god's sake.
"This seems to be really important to you," I say, turning around and pulling out my receipt. "Here, let's count them up together - one, two, three..."
"No, no no," he says, backing up.
"Four, five, six, seven..."
"Really, it's OK."
"Oh yeah, and the wine - EIGHT! Eight items. Less than 10. We good?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "You have a good afternoon."
"You too," I say sweetly with every cell of my Southern DNA lighting up that certain smile that is a terrifying mixture of controlled fury and contempt with a dash of pity for the intended recipient. Bless his heart, he never saw it coming.

Scene from the craft store...

Emma overhears a woman yelling at her football-jersey, crew-cut husband to get some fancy scrapbook paper
    her: Get the kind that sparkles.
    her: No, wait, not sparkles...
    her: Shimmers.
    him: [under his breath to Emma] Whats the f***ing difference...
    Emma: .....?