"Yo, excuse me miss, you like perfume?"
I was pumping my gas and hadn't washed my hair for days. I looked at the brown-skinned man with the tiny mustache at the next pump over and said, "Uh, no."
He persisted. "Really? You don't like perfume? You don't wear it at all?"
"No." I lied.
"Because I got some really great deals from Vegas-"
I interrupted, "No thanks."
"Well, what about your husband? Because I got-"
"Yeah, no."
With that, he turned up his bass and sped off. I scraped something off my forehead and replaced the cap back on my gas tank.
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