Whath the point?

I'll never forget the time we came across the pride of San Francisco.

We brought our items up to the counter at Old Navy. Our cashier was - I kid you not - the reincarnate of Captain Hook (but without the hook). He was Latino, tall and slim; had high cheekbones and wavy hair that fell past his shoulders. He wore eyeliner, and had an earring (or two). No problem, we were cool. After all, it was San Francisco.

What really caught us off guard was his reminder to remove the price tag when we asked for a gift receipt, "becuth otherwithe, whath the point? And here'th your change, $13. Thome think it'th bad luck, but I'm not thuperthtitious." Tinkerbell voice, hand gestures and all. We flashed him a great smile and thanked him.

It was all we could do to run out of the store before we cracked up.