My husband and I were looking for, what we like to call, "Squeeze Cheese". You know, the stuff that's-bad-for-you in a can that swirls or gushes out when you push the top nozzle like you do on the whipped cream cans.
Anyway......we couldn't find any of it at one store so we went to another, slightly higher-end store in a fancier part of town. We found the shelf well stocked with squeeze cheese, so we proceeded to grab about 4 or 5 cans of the stuff.
We get to the checkout register where a teenage boy is looking bored and ready to end his shift for the night and go home.
He looks at our bounty of squeeze cheese with a tiny twinkle of curiosity, but proceeds to run the cans over the scanner with the usual "Hello, have you found everything, blah, blah".
The next thing I know, my husband catches the boy's eye, nudges his head in my direction saying, "Sex fetish."
Both the boy and I look at my husband wondering if we heard what we thought we heard when my husband blurts out, "Yeah. She likes to cover me with cheese and call me cracker."
I laugh. The boy turns 5 shades of red and laughs nervously. I tell him that my husband is joking and we leave the store.
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